AkuRokuRiSo Month 2k15
by the.israel.project107
Summary: The collection of one-two-and-three-shots I wrote for AkuRokuRiSo Month, the insane brainchild of myself, nicayal, and sylvermyth. It was a hell of a month (and I still have prompts I haven't finished yet. Wasn't expecting so many two-parters). Crazy bunch of AkuRoku and RiSo running from humour to drama to I don't even remember anymore.
1. Flourbaking

Prompt: Flour/baking  
Main pairing: RiSo  
Rating: M (for utter crudity, and dragging down the tone of the entire project)  
Word count: 3,271  
Prompter: anon

.o.O.o.

Riku parked his car as close to the bakery as he could get, not wanting to carry something as delicate as freshly-baked cupcakes around the city in case someone knocked him and he dropped the whole damn lot. These were expensive cakes, the girls had warned him, and they had issued him with a firm ultimatum: you break it, you buy it.

Tough talk for a couple chicks who were too embarrassed to go pick up the order _they made_ at an erotic bakery. Kairi and Selphie had tag-teamed him, wheedling and pleading until he exasperatedly agreed to pick up the naughty cakes for their friend's hen's night later on. _They_ claimed they were just too busy getting everything else ready – but Riku knew the instant that they told him the name of the order to ask for that they were just too chicken.

Shaking his head, he dug his hands into his pockets and headed along the sidewalk towards the bakery's innocuous front. The signage was clear enough about the sort of wares they dealt in, but it looked so _normal,_ like any other bakery he'd ever been to. Riku pushed through the door, hearing the friendly tinkle of a bell over his head, and entered a world of warm, sweet smells. He glanced around, brushing the long hair out of his eyes. The shop was pretty small, with just a single counter with no one behind it. An L-shaped display case showed some tamer cakes pointing towards the door, and then some pretty fucking funny ones pointing towards the wall. A half-smile tugging at his mouth, he stepped closer to the case, bending and peering through the glass at a cake in the shape of a vagina, a doll's head popping out of it like some bizarre _Alien_ re-enactment. Uh, right, so – baby shower cake right there, he was pretty sure. Next to it was a cake with an image of a buff guy in the frosting, and then just a, just a _gigantic_ penis curving up from it into the realm of 3D. Wow. Okay.

His highly immature chuckle was met with the clearing of a throat, just a slight, polite sound, but Riku jumped. _Shit._ Right – the little bell had announced his entrance, hadn't it? He straightened and turned to the register... then abruptly halted. His eyes widened slightly.

The… absolute _cutest_ guy was working as cashier. And, actually, judging from the flour currently powdering parts of his tanned face and the black apron he wore, he was also a baker here. But he had these _bright blue eyes,_ and the most disarming smile Riku had ever seen, and just… man, this shop was full of surprises.

The guy tilted his head slightly, a quizzical look passing over his expression, and Riku realized all at once that he was staring. He hurriedly cleared his throat, dug his hands deeply back into the pockets of his jacket, and stepped over to the register. "Uh, hi."

"Hi, there!" Oh, man, he even had a cute manner. Just two words and Riku could feel his stomach flip-flopping – there was such a natural cheeriness to his attitude, it was like stepping into a patch of sunlight. "Welcome to Destiny Island! What can I do for you?"

Riku opened his mouth, then froze. He had been – _totally_ fine with coming to pick up the cakes when he just thought it'd be any old encounter. It wasn't embarrassing, right? They were cakes, the people who worked here weren't going to be snickering behind their hands at someone coming in and asking for things – so why was it suddenly such a hard task to get those words out? "Uh – um…" He felt himself panicking and coughed into his hand to buy some time, while the guy behind the counter started raising an eyebrow.

"Um. Are you here to place an order? Or pick one up? Or…" His eyebrow completed its ascent. "…Just browsing?"

Riku felt his cheeks flame, and hurriedly shook his head. "No – _haha_ – no, I'm here for, I need to pick up, uh…" He cleared his throat one last time. _Come on, Riku. He works here. He probably made them._ "I'm picking up an order. I'm here to pick up a forty-eight batch of…" _You can do it._ "…cock-cakes."

The guy's face brightened. "Ah, right." He checked an order log-book. "For Selphie and Kairi, right?"

"That's them," Riku mumbled, momentarily hating them for existing. But then the guy gave him a bright smile, and he hated them a little – a lot – less.

"Just wait right here, I'll bring them right out."

He turned and disappeared through the doorway behind the counter, while Riku sagged, gripping the display case for support. _That guy was so cute._ What to do? Should Riku ask for his number? Could he? Was it creepy to go from staring at cakes with gigantic dicks to asking a guy for his digits? _There was no precedent for this!_

The guy returned entirely too quickly, before Riku was able to straighten back up, forcing him to improvise and pretend he was looking at the cakes. With a hand pressed hard to the glass… right… right over a cake shaped into two of the largest breasts Riku had ever seen, on or off confections. He lifted his gaze slowly to the bakery guy's, who was peering down at what he was apparently trying to grope through the glass. He commented, "Oh, that one. They're pretty real-looking, huh?"

About as real as Riku's desire for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Yep. "Uhm."

"Well, here are the cock-cakes." The guy had brought out a large white box, popping up the lid to let Riku look inside at eight neat rows of cupcakes decorated with frosting and a variety of little, erect, sugar penises. "Cute, right?"

Riku grappled for words. "Ha – ya…"

"Not your thing? More into boob cake?"

"N-no!" God, if the guy thought he was _straight_ it was all over. "I'm not – into boob cake. I'm… I'm definitely more of a cock-cake man…"

Oh, Jesus, take the wheel.

Riku closed his eyes. He heard himself say, "Um, is there – any charge? My friends didn't tell me…" Honestly, he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything anymore. That he was capable of stringing words together right now was as close to a miracle as Riku was ever going to get.

"No – they paid ahead. The cock-cakes are all yours." He could hear the amusement in the guy's voice, and felt his insides _shrivel._

"Thank you."

With absolutely zero pride, and a keen desire to maybe throw himself under the next passing bus, Riku grabbed the box of cock-cakes and somehow wobbled his way out of the shop and back to his car. Sitting behind the wheel with the big, white box in the passenger's seat, Riku felt the _thud_ of his brain catching up with the rest of him, and that was when he scared the passers-by by slamming his head so hard into the steering wheel that he made the horn blare.

.o.O.o.

Three days later, Riku couldn't take it anymore. The guy at the erotic cake store had just been – all over his mind. When he closed his eyes, he saw him. When he took a breath, he felt like smiling. But then, inevitably, whenever he thought of the cake store guy, he thought of the absolute fucking shambles that encounter had been, and he wanted to curl into a ball like a pill bug and never come out again.

 _Ugghhh._ He'd never been so mortified in all his life. And there was no reason it had had to go that way, that was the worst part! It was because Riku choked right when it mattered most that it had turned into such an awkward mess. If he had just – just played it _cool,_ behaved like a guy who was way too mature to do anything more than maybe _smirk_ at a gigantic erection coming off of a cake, and have opinions about little cock-cakes where he could agree, "Yes, they're super cute!" or something to that effect…

But, no. Not Riku. He had gaped, grunted, and groped the display case.

He was a living, breathing train wreck.

But – even so, he couldn't get the guy out of his head.

That was how he found himself nervously sitting at his laptop, finger circling the mouse button, sucking on his bottom lip and mustering up the courage to click the _'Order and Pay'_ button on the Destiny Island website. He had… selected a cake that he hoped… expressed his interests, in cake form… sort of.

It was a cock. It was a cake in the shape of a cock. A big one. With… frosted, globe-like balls, and… _augh,_ he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't. All he knew was that he wanted an excuse to see the guy at the bakery again, and he had already made enough of an _ass_ of himself without just strolling in and adding 'local perv who stares at erotic bakery wares' to the list.

So. Okay. He could do this. Totally. He could. He _could._

He clicked, and in a heartbeat, his order went through. He had ordered it for next-day pick-up, even though it cost extra. He just – he didn't want to wait any longer. He had to go and try again. Try to make a _good_ impression.

Now, he had to go and plan his outfit for tomorrow.

.o.O.o.

His heart was going to explode.

Riku was back to wobbling, trying desperately to look suave as he did so. He just – couldn't get his knees to _behave,_ damn it. They were all weak and shaky, and his palms were sweaty, and _God,_ you'd think these things got easier when you got a little older.

 _Come on, Riku. Head in the game!_

He stopped just short of the store and gave his cheeks a rousing slap, drew a deep, fortifying breath, lifted his head, squared his shoulders, and continued with a _confident_ wobble into the Destiny Island bakery. The little bell sounded, threatening to shatter his cool. He nervously flipped his hair, approaching the counter with his hands bunching and releasing. He had chosen his outfit carefully – jeans and a zip-up sleeveless black shirt, yellow vest over the top, the primo _arm-bearing_ outfit, so maybe he could flash his biceps a little at the guy, make _him_ weak at the knees.

He heard approaching steps and sucked in a little more air before he got dizzy.

His server was a woman in a pink dress.

Riku once again sagged against the display case.

"Um… can I – help you?" she asked, baffled. She glanced down at the case, to where his hands were splayed. "…You want some boob cake?"

Riku… left the store.

.o.O.o.

"Whaaat? And you didn't even pick up your giant cock cake?"

Riku sat sulkily on the couch in the apartment he shared with Kairi and Selphie, a foot propped up on the coffee table, arms folded and the TV on. In response to the question, he growled, "Not helping, Kairi."

"But you paid for it and everything…"

"You've eaten enough cock for the both of us," Riku spitefully sniffed, then, at the look on her face, fearing suddenly for his safety, he hurriedly clarified, "From the cock-cakes! The little ones at the hen's night! The cupcake cock-cakes!" He then sighed, the air leaving him in a gusty rush. "…Why do all my conversations about erotic cakes end badly?"

"Aw, sweetie." Kairi patted his arm sympathetically. "It'll be okay, I promise. There are plenty more cock cakes in the sea!"

Riku's chin dropped to his chest.

He was never going to live this one down.

.o.O.o.

The next day, Riku was doing his best to convince himself he'd never been to an erotic bakery in his life. There was no cute cashier, no disastrous conversation, no – _cock cakes._ And anyway, no one was worth this level of self-flagellation. He had been humiliated _quite_ enough: he was ready to give up on the bakery guy. Some things just… weren't meant to be.

He heaved a deep, glum sigh.

Kairi and Selphie were out for the day, leaving him alone to mope around the apartment, thinking about the web design contract he should probably start getting around to before his deadline loomed. He didn't really feel like job woes being piled on top of his romantic woes – or, lack thereof, he supposed. Nothing could be called 'romantic woes' with a guy whose _name_ he didn't even know.

Just when he'd decided it was probably time to stop feeling sorry for himself and just go and try to get some work done, someone knocked at the door. Riku paused halfway to the stairs to his loft, bare toes wriggling for a moment in the carpet as he contemplated whether he could be bothered answering it. It was probably one of the girls' friends. And if it was one of his, well… he had work to do.

His mind made up, he started again for the stairs, only for the knock to sound out a second time, accompanied by the muffled call of, _"Delivery!"_

…Well, maybe it was something from Amazon. That would be okay. Riku's path veered towards the front door, unhooking the chain and twisting the deadlock, pulling it open a few inches. When he saw who was on the other side, he could have fainted dead away with shock.

Gripping the door for support, he clawed for air, before exclaiming, voice higher than desired, _"You?"_

The guy from the bakery tilted his head with a small giggle, his grin as broad as Riku remembered – maybe even broader. "Hi, again. You're Riku, right?"

Riku stared wildly, before giving a quick, sharp nod.

"I've got a delivery for you, Riku." He was holding a large, white box, like the one the cupcakes had come in. Gesturing to it with his chin, he asked, "Can I come in? Set this down somewhere?"

 _"Sure."_ Why did he keep sounding like someone had kicked him between the legs? With a tremendous summoning of will, he relaxed his vocal cords, deepened his voice. Hopefully sexily. "Come right in." He stepped back, the bakery guy entering with a peppy step, looking around with great curiosity at the apartment.

"Oh, wow, what a nice place! It's so big and airy."

"I – share it with my friends," Riku explained, feeling suddenly panicky. _What the hell, man? How was he here? Now?_ "Um. You wanted to set that down, right? I'll show you to the kitchen." The guy nodded, and happily fell into step behind Riku as he padded through the apartment. "So – uh – who placed that order again?"

"You did," the guy answered, as Riku entered the kitchen and pointed to the counter. Setting the white box down, the guy flipped up the lid to show…

"Oh, my God." The muttered exclamation left Riku before he could stop it. That… was a big cock-shaped cake. Frosted balls and all. But, wait… "I – I didn't order it for delivery." He was beyond confused, and after a moment's thought, he added, "And I ordered it for yesterday." More thinking. "And – your bakery doesn't _deliver."_

The guy's grin, never too far away, edged a little wider. He leaned an elbow on the counter next to the cake box. "Yeah, well…" He held out a hand. "I'm Sora, by the way."

Riku automatically stepped forward and grasped the proffered hand with a squeeze. "Riku."

"I've heard some strange things lately, you know, Riku. Like, for example, yesterday I heard from my boss that a guy came in, wiped his hands over the boob cake in the display case, then left without a word."

Riku started to fidget. "Oh – yeah?"

"Yeah, and at the end of the day we had a cake left over that we didn't know what to do with, because the person who ordered it never picked it up."

Riku's eyes darted nervously to the open cake box.

"Oh… yeah?"

"And _then,_ bright and early this morning, we got this call from a girl who really wanted to talk to me." Sora's blue eyes danced with pent up laughter. "She told me a funny story, about a guy a couple days back who came into the store and thought that I looked _so cute_ he lost all ability to talk properly." Riku gaped, horror crashing through him. No. Ohhh, no. "Then, it so happens, he spent the money ordering a cake so that maybe he could have another go at talking to me, properly this time. But, of course, my boss was on at the time, so I guess he chickened out and went home. I was out the back, by the way," he added, with a wink. Riku's face flamed red.

 _"Kairi,"_ he growled.

"Yeah, that's it! That's the name of the girl who called to speak to me," Sora agreed, now smiling _so_ widely it was a wonder he could keep his mirth in. "And she's the one who told me the address of the guy who had ordered the cake but left before he could pick it up. She told me he might be a little _indisposed_ at the sight of me on his doorstep… but to press on, because he's actually a total sweetheart, and not in fact someone who walks into erotic cake shops to paw at the boob cakes."

Riku lowered his head so that his hair fell over his face, about ready to spontaneously combust. Sora wasn't going to let him hide, though – a moment later, the guy was bent at the waist and peering up into Riku's downturned face. "Wow. You're bright red." He grinned, a sight so lovely that Riku blushed even harder. "You know," Sora offered, "you're pretty cute yourself. It's a good thing you're not into boob cake, after all."

Blinking, Riku's head jerked up. "Um… _uh…"_

Sora straightened, and gave a small, two-fingered salute. "Well, I'd better get back to the store. I'm on my break right now." He folded his hands behind his head, backing towards the doorway. "But it was – _really good_ to meet you, Riku. Maybe we'll meet again, sometime." He twisted and headed out of the kitchen, tossing back one final, teasing line: "Enjoy your cake!"

Riku, locked in place, listened to his shoes clomp through the apartment, finding their way back to the front door… and then, with a muffled bang, Sora was gone.

He stood for a moment in perfect stillness, trying to comprehend the last five minutes of his life.

What… _what…?_

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled Kairi. She answered: _"Hello?"_

 _"What the hell was that?"_ Riku screeched. "The – the _cake guy –_ there's a _cock cake_ on the counter – and he – _Sora –_ and I just stood here like a – _and you! You did this!"_

 _"…Is the cake any good?"_

Riku wanted to started hysterically laughing. "I'll just _eat some cake,_ shall I?" He stalked to the white box and shoved the lid back. Once there, he stopped, his heart seeming to halt in his chest.

From the phone, he heard Kairi smugly ask, _"Well?"_

Riku stammered for a moment, then croaked, "I'll call you back." He ended the call and folded back the flap on the lid, across which a cell phone number had been neatly printed in black marker. A winking smiley sat at the end of it… and a little heart.

Hands trembling, Riku first punched in the name – _Sora –_ then carefully started entering the cake-box number into his phone, his chest light and his smile goofy.


	2. You can't heat taquitos in the microwave

Prompt: "You can't heat taquitos in the microwave, you goddamn neanderthal."  
Main pairing: AkuRoku  
Rating: M  
Word count: 3,194  
Prompter: Anon

.o.O.o.

It was two-thirty in the morning when Axel slouched his way into the first gas station he'd come across since getting back into town. For _eighteen hours_ he had been behind the wheel of his banged-up, dusty Kia, and right now he was halfway to dying. Visiting the folks for their crystal anniversary had _seemed_ like a good idea at the time, but oh, man, the logistics were killer. He was exhausted, grimy, itchy-eyed, sore all over, and had a weird taste in his mouth. He was also _hungry._

With the Kia sitting outside, all fuelled up for the week ahead, Axel planned to use the last of his money to buy something to eat. Scratching his impatiently growling stomach as he passed through the automatic doors, he half-glanced at the cashier, a guy of about nineteen with sun-bleached hair and a bored expression texting on his phone behind the counter, and made his way into the aisles to browse the snacks. He passed by a trio of what looked like chronic pot-heads loitering by the chips and gave them a wide berth; they gave off an aggravating air, like they were looking for trouble. One of them, a guy in a trench-coat and beanie, levelled a long stare at Axel as he went by, the redhead noticing but ignoring it, avoiding eye contact, not in the mood for any shit right now.

Feeling like eating something hot, he trudged around til he found the frozen goods, standing there for several long minutes trying not to sway from weariness while surveying the goods. Eventually, his eyes alighted on a box of chicken and cheese taquitos. Seeming like a good choice for two-thirty in the morning, he opened the freezer door and reached in, grabbing the box out and heading back towards the front of the store. When he got there, the pot-heads had beaten him to the counter, the guy in the trench-coat launching into full-blown 'dick' mode.

"How's it going, Roxas?" There was a leer in his voice, the cashier dragging his eyes, with obvious distaste, from his phone. He had earbuds in, a plaid shirt over a black t-shirt, and a lollipop stick poking from one side of his mouth.

Looking down at the bag of chips that Trench-coat Guy had tossed onto the counter, he grabbed it up, scanned it, and disinterestedly intoned, "Three-fifty."

"You know," the guy said, the leer growing more pronounced with every passing second, "if you feel like wrapping your lips around something, forget the lollipop. I can give you a better option right here and now. Put that tongue piercing to good use." He grasped his crotch and pumped his hips for emphasis. Axel rolled his eyes.

So did the cashier. "Well, _gee,_ Seifer, as appealing an offer as that is, my mouth actually has a minimum size requirement, and this –" He pulled the lollipop out from behind his lips, the pale blue candy glistening with his saliva, "is what sets the limit. From what I hear, you don't measure can keep your tiny dick to yourself. Or, hey, treat your friends! I hear Rai's on a diet."

"Hey!" The big dude next to Trench-coat Guy let out a protest. "It's not that sort of diet, you know? It's a protein diet, for weight-lifting."

Trench-coat Guy twisted and punched him in the shoulder, hissing, "Moron!" then turned back to the cashier. "I swear to Christ, Roxas, you watch your fucking _mouth_ with me, or you'll regret it."

Axel had had enough of this bullshit. "Can we maybe move this along?" he tetchily asked, gesturing to his box of frozen taquitos. "Some of us don't have all night to stand around offering blow jobs to cashiers who obviously hate our guts. Deal and move on, Trench-coat Guy."

All eyes suddenly found Axel, the blue ones of the cashier sparking with interest. Trench-coat Guy, on the other hand, was not pleased. Enraged at the interruption, he turned and demanded, "You want to _make_ something of it, you piece of shit!?"

 _Haa._ So _not_ in the mood for this.

Axel straightened from his hunched, tired state to extend to full height, adopting a menacing attitude. "Do _you?"_ he countered, glowering. Trench-coat Guy took a moment to look him up and down, taking in his tallness, his dark expression, the sleeve tattoos of flames that started at his wrists and disappeared up into his t-shirt. As his gaze rose to Axel's face, he seemed to experience a moment's alarm.

"…This guy has tear-drop tattoos!" he said, his friends suddenly frowning. "That means he's killed people, right?" Trench-coat Guy backed up a step, then another. "…Forget this. We're leaving," he spat, but no amount of bile could hide the flash of fear in his face. He turned abruptly and stalked away, his friends quick to follow. The trio made a rapid exit, scuttling off into the night.

Axel raised an eyebrow, scarcely able to believe what just happened, while the cashier sighed and stuck the lollipop back in his mouth. "Guess they didn't want their chips, after all." Propping his elbows on the counter, he studied Axel intently as he approached the counter. "And aren't _you_ just the regular knight-errant," he commented, an appraising look in his eyes.

Axel shrugged. "That's me. Saving cashiers-in-distress from shit-breathing assholes the world over." He stuck the taquitos on the counter, his confrontational demeanour long gone, the tiredness back in full force. The cashier scanned the box, while Axel brought out his wallet and flipped it open. "I've got the Kia, too," he added, swinging his head towards its lonely vigil outside, sliding out the cash. The blond rang it all up, took his money, and returned minimal change. "Thanks," he grunted. "See ya."

Taking the taquitos off the counter, Axel doubled back to the public microwave at the back of the store. Tearing the taquitos box open, he popped the microwave door and slid them in, thumbing five minutes on the timer and getting it going. Meanwhile, the cashier had hopped down from his stool behind the counter and was returning the abandoned bag of chips to its rightful place.

After a little while, Axel became aware that he was being watched. Glancing sideways, he saw the blond down the other end of the aisle, a suspicious scowl in place as he looked at Axel. "Hey," he said, a mutter at first, and then, _"Hey!"_ He came striding down towards Axel, pointing aggressively at the microwave. "You can't heat taquitos in the microwave, you goddamn Neanderthal!"

Axel glanced around. "I don't see a sign saying not to."

"It's not _that._ It's the _principle._ Everyone knows that microwave-cooked taquitos fucking _suck."_ The guy shook his head as if Axel had skipped one of the fundamentals of Life 101. "They go all _limp_ and _mushy,_ and then you burn your mouth because the cheese is like _lava…_ This isn't okay. I can't let you do this." Meeting Axel's bemused gaze determinedly, he stated, "When they're done, we're putting them in the pie warmer. They need to be _crisp."_

Axel scratched his head. "That's really not necessary…"

"Yeah, it is," the guy answered shortly, and before Axel could argue further, he hopped up to sit next to the microwave on the section of counter usually reserved for mixing sugars into coffees. "You chased off Seifer for me. That means I owe you a favour, and that means I am going to _save_ you from _yourself,_ and some very shitty taquitos."

"…You don't look like a food snob," Axel remarked, with some amusement, baffled by the kid's insistence but too tired to argue about it.

The cashier sent him a careful look. "And what about what you look like? Are those really tear-drop tattoos?"

Axel snorted. "No. I'm a tattoo artist. I was experimenting on myself. I'll admit that I was drunk at the time, but even so, pretty steady handiwork for a drunk guy."

The blond brightened slightly. "You do tattoos?"

"Yeah. You got any?"

The kid shook his head. "I've thought about it," he mused, "but I don't trust myself to pick the right thing." He started swinging his sneaker-clad feet, bumping the heels every so often against the counter-front, becoming gradually more animated the longer they talked. Axel noticed these little things with some fascination. The guy was definitely cute. "It's like, what if what I think is a cool idea _now_ turns out to be a major fucking mistake later, you know? Like maybe I'll decide I hate it in a few years, or, even worse, it's something that becomes tragically uncool, and I'll be this old guy walking around with tattoos that everyone secretly laughs at. I don't want to be _that_ guy."

Axel chuckled, holding up his forearms. "Well, what about these? You think I'll be that guy a few decades from now?"

Thoughtfully, the cashier looked at his tattoos, then shook his head. "Nah. You're pretty safe with flames."

"Well, _praise the Lord,"_ Axel laughed. "That's a weight off my mind."

The guy gave him a quick grin, the lollipop stick changing direction to poke up into the air. "So, did you do your arms, too?"

"Nah. Too awkward to get at, especially once you get near the elbow. My work partner did 'em, took him nearly a week."

"Huh. Okay." Entirely too casually, the guy then asked, "So is your work partner also your _partner_ partner, or what?"

With half a smirk tugging at his lips, Axel tilted his head a little to get a better look at the kid. "Me and Demyx? No way. Even without him already having a boyfriend, him and me would never be like that. Fire and water don't mix."

The guy was looking at him differently, now. A little more boldly, maybe. "I don't know," he said, reaching up to toy with his lollipop. "Fire and water. Sounds to me like that could get… steamy."

"…Did you just, like, lower some imaginary sunglasses at that last word?"

The cashier laughed out loud, and Axel caught a glimpse, next to the blue orb of candy in his mouth, of a yellow tongue-stud. Very cute.

The microwave beeped, ruining the moment a bit, the kid jumping back down and opening it up. "Hey, I'm Roxas, by the way," he said over his shoulder, as he pulled the box of taquitos out.

"Mm. Axel," he responded, growing more interested by the second. Roxas started leading the way to the front of the store, where the pie warmer sat on the main counter, and Axel noticed, as he followed, that there was a honey-coloured section of skin exposed between the guy's collar and his hair. Finding himself entranced by that patch of skin, Axel suddenly said, "You know, if you wanted, I could find a good design for you. For a tattoo."

A little startled, Roxas glanced back at him. "What? For real?"

"Yeah. I feel like… this place, here…" He couldn't help but reach out and stroke two fingers down the back of the guy's neck. Roxas shivered, and… maybe it was just Axel, but the air felt more charged, all of a sudden. "…could be prime real estate…" he finished, a little more hoarsely than he'd begun.

Voice sounding tighter, Roxas replied, "Yeah. Maybe. I guess I'd need your number, though, so we could talk about it more."

"…Yeah."

Roxas stopped at the pie warmer, empty at this time of night, and slid the door open, shaking the individual taquitos out across the latticed shelf before turning up the heat and pushing it shut again. Grabbing a magnetic timer from the side of the oven, he set it to a further five minutes, then palmed it and turned towards Axel. With his back to the warmer, he pulled the lollipop from his mouth, just a little smaller than it had been when Axel had first arrived, and asked, without a hint of coyness, "So… wanna mess around for five minutes?" There was something like a challenge in his eyes.

"…'Mess around'…" Axel echoed, eyes narrowing, wondering if he was understanding right.

Gaze unwavering, the lollipop twirling slowly between his fingers, the kid said, "Yeah. You and me. Kill some time. I mean, unless you'd rather sit around and discuss the weather."

"You ask that question of a lot of late-night customers?" Axel cautiously asked, taken somewhat aback by his directness.

Roxas shrugged. "Believe it or not, no. I guess that makes you special. You should probably feel special. I hate nearly everyone in this shit-hole."

"But not me," Axel double-checked.

"Nope." His eyes darted up and down Axel with open appreciation. "Kind of the opposite, actually. Maybe I've been behind the counter too long tonight, or something, but…" His lips were gleaming from the lollipop's recent exit. He unconsciously licked them as he noticed Axel staring.

Swallowing, sorely tempted but not quite convinced, Axel pointed out, "Aren't there… cameras around? Won't you get in trouble?"

Roxas took a sliding step forwards, closing the space between them, gaze daring. "We could go to the bathroom. No cameras allowed in there."

Axel nearly laughed. "And – customers?"

"The walls are paper thin. I'll be able to hear any cars turn up. Not that they will. It's late – didn't you notice?" They were almost nose to nose, Axel able to smell the sweetness of his breath. "Time's a-wasting," Roxas pointed out, the timer clutched in his fist. With a slow inhalation, Axel nodded his willingness, and Roxas grabbed the bathroom key from next to the register. "This way."

Again, Axel found himself following the blond, taunted by that patch of smooth, blank skin. His fingers itched to touch it. That, and a lot more.

They exited into the night, walking around to the side of the building. Axel, wanting a little clarification in all this, ventured, "So, when you say 'mess around'…"

"I mean 'mess around'," Roxas answered, his voice drifting back. They stopped in front of the bathroom, the blond unlocking it and swinging the door open into the small, harshly-lit space. He turned to Axel. "I'm not going to blow you, and we're not having sex. We have –" he checked the timer, "three and a half minutes. Let's just get to it."

"This feels…" Axel was still searching for the right word as he followed the guy in, Roxas locking the door behind them.

"It's about to feel a lot more," he promised, and reached up to take hold of the sides of Axel's head, tugging him down into a hot, eager kiss. Holy mother of God, but this kid was electric. Whatever misgivings Axel had about the location or speed of their union, it all disappeared the second that tongue-stud touched the inside of his mouth.

He grunted, wrapping his arms around the blond, who gasped for air whenever their lips parted, tongues pressing and tasting, hands roaming. Axel caressed him through his shirt, before slipping his hands underneath the fabric to scrape his nails across Roxas' lower back. The kid shivered, let out a whispering moan, and started trailing kisses down Axel's throat. Every inch of him was hot to touch, deliciously silken, the man able to feel the muscles tensing beneath his skin as their breaths came shorter and sharper.

The longer they kissed, the more intense it became, Roxas' tongue-stud clicking every now and again against Axel's teeth, the sound driving him crazy, sending a thrill straight between his legs. _No sex, and no blow jobs. No sex, and no blow jobs._ He tried to keep that in mind, tried to keep himself from getting too excited, because goddamn, if this kid got him hard without release, Axel didn't think he'd be able to walk straight for a week.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, Axel struggled to pull away from Roxas' eager mouth, instead twisting the boy around and pushing him forward against the sink. Roxas gasped and grabbed hold of it, heavily-lidded blue eyes rising to watch hazily in the mirror as Axel came up behind him and dragged his lips down the side of his neck. Into his ear, Axel muttered, "Let me tattoo you. You might not trust yourself, but you'd trust me, right?"

Roxas drew an unsteady breath, chin rising in the mirror. "That remains to be seen."

With a growl, Axel began kissing and sucking at the hypnotic patch of skin he dreamed of setting needle and ink to, the blond whimpering softly, eyes sliding shut…

And the timer went off, a shrill beeping that cut like a knife through the thickening mood.

Even through the barrier of Roxas' hand, it demanded to be heard. Sighing regretfully, Roxas held up a hand to signal for Axel to stop, and, like a switch being flipped, shrugged him off. "Damn. Those three minutes went fast."

Axel stood in the middle of the room, panting, feeling both aroused and cheated. Still, it wasn't like he hadn't agreed to this. "No kidding," he mumbled, trying to keep his frustration at bay. He touched his lips, tasting Roxas' candy in his mouth, and lifted his eyes to the kid's. "Sea-salt lollipop?"

Sticking it back in, Roxas nodded. "I's mah favourite," he said, briefly garbled by its position on his tongue. The tongue that had, just a minute ago, been pressed against Axel's. Seeing the dazed look on his face, the blond gestured, the candy clicking against his teeth as he repositioned it into his cheek. "C'mon. Taquitos."

Axel could not have given fewer shits about the taquitos if he'd tried. He'd have happily burned them for another five or ten minutes alone with Roxas. But the kid was like a whirlwind – sweeping in, then out again, leaving Axel dizzy in his wake.

Back in the store, Roxas used a pair of tongs to pluck each of the taquitos out, now perfectly crisp from their time in the pie warmer. "Much better," he remarked approvingly. He handed the box to Axel, who stared down at them distractedly. Then, Roxas' hand blocked his view, and one of his taquitos was confiscated, taking the lollipop's place for a few munching moments. "Pie warmer tax," he informed Axel, who nodded distantly.

Apparently taking pity on him, Roxas hesitated, losing some of his flippancy. His hand rose to his neck, then behind it, absently touching where Axel had been kissing. "So… about that tattoo…" He met Axel's gaze searchingly. "I'll give you my number. Call me, and we'll… meet up. You can try and… convince me."

Blinking, Axel nodded. "Yeah. Right. Okay."

"And mess around some more," Roxas added, "because that was hot. Somewhere more private next time, and for longer. If you want to."

Axel felt himself melting inside. Whoever this kid was… in the space of fifteen minutes, he'd already all but enslaved him. "I definitely… _definitely_ … want to," he replied, a slow grin spreading across Roxas' face, the lollipop stick quivering between his teeth.

Axel picked one of his taquitos out of the box and bit into it… and he had to admit, it was pretty fucking good.


	3. Shattered Pt 1

Prompt: Shattered  
Main pairing: RiSo  
Rating: T  
Word count: 7747  
AO3 collection: /collections/AkuRokuRiSo_Month  
Prompter: wordsebbandflow (tumblr)

 **.o.O.o.**

Riku had time to kill. He wandered through downtown Hollow Bastion, along its network of curving streets and alleyways, rugged up against the cool weather in a coat and scarf, his messenger bag slung over his chest. He had eaten lunch with friends after his morning classes, but Kairi and the others had tutorials to attend before Riku's next lecture at three, so rather than hang about campus, he'd decided a walk and some exploration was called for.

He'd lived in Hollow Bastion for two years now, but still the place managed to surprise him. It was so filled with little pop-up shops that appeared and vanished seemingly overnight, and entire, teeming communities that you could easily walk right by without noticing due to the messy way the streets cut to and fro. Riku liked it like this – it meant that even after all this time, he could go exploring and actually find something new and different. It was completely different from the island he'd come from in order to attend HBU – growing up in a small place with the same people day after day made him appreciate just how large and varied the rest of the world could be.

Today, for example, he'd come across a street he'd never noticed before, at the edge of the commercial district – it was long, and dimly lit because the high wall between the districts blocked out a lot of the sun. Maybe this was why he hadn't spotted it in the past – on his way to other places, he'd never thought to look off to the right until just now. He stood at the street's entrance, gazing down the sharp, swooping hill it followed, wondering for a moment if it was worth the trek back up. But then, about halfway down, he saw a sign for a mirror shop. He had been needing a new mirror since Tidus had managed to break the one in their dorm room while practicing Blitzball moves indoors, like a dick.

Mind made up, he turned and headed down, shoes scuffing the quaint cobblestones. As he went, it gradually occurred to him how… _quiet_ it was along here. The noise and commotion of the city seemed to melt behind him the further downhill he ventured, until, pausing outside the mirror shop, it felt almost like an entirely different place altogether. Head turning, he gazed back up the way he'd come. It looked a lot more distant from here than it had when he'd first looked down from the top. The sunlight seemed… a long way off.

Shaking off the small shiver that tickled the back of his neck, Riku turned his attention to the mirror store. The door was open, the shop beyond a little gloomy, but definitely stacked with its promised product: mirrors as far as the eye could see. Stepping inside, Riku slowly unwound his scarf as the store's heating enveloped him. The counter was empty, the cash register old-looking, a dormant computer to one side. As far as Riku could tell, the entire store was deserted. He stopped, twisting the scarf around his hands, and glanced about, listening carefully. Nothing. Nobody. Maybe the cashier had stepped out for a smoke? Or to pee?

Well, at the very least, Riku could look around, and if he found something that appealed to him, he could just wait by the counter for someone to appear. Leaving the counter behind, he started down one aisle and entered a world of mirrors. It was kind of like being in a funhouse. Everywhere he looked, reflected versions of himself peered back, sliding into and out of view as he ambled slowly along. Price stickers were smoothed against the frames, Riku's face twisting in displeasure at how expensive everything seemed to be. The mirrors all made the same face back, evidently disapproving of his being cheap.

It didn't take him long to reach the end of the aisle, and with only one other to go, on the other side of this one, his chances of finding something affordable weren't looking good. Ideally, he'd wanted something floor-length, but obviously _that_ wasn't going to happen. His next goal, therefore, was something that would at least show his reflection to the shoulders, but nothing he'd seen so far had been in his price range. He should've charged Tidus for the breakage. Maybe he could convince the unruly blond to go halves in something.

Lost in thought, steeped in silence, when something flickered at the corner of his eye, Riku automatically turned to look. He blinked, then blinked again, lips parting as he found himself staring at – an absolutely stunning mirror. It glass was dark, dull from age, but the frame was incredible: burnished brass, decorated with intricate etchings, accompanied by embossed leaves studded all over the place, almost as if they grew from the mirror itself. It was breathtaking. It had to be an antique. There was no price tag attached, and it wouldn't have mattered if there had; Riku knew with one look that he wasn't going to be able to afford it, not in _this_ lifetime.

Even so, he couldn't help but want to gaze at it longer. He'd never seen anything like it. He crossed the floor in several steps and stood with a hand hovering over the frame, scarcely daring to touch it. Glancing over his shoulder, finding that he was still completely alone and unlikely to get yelled at for accosting the wares, he gently traced a finger over some of the engravings. The brass was cold to touch, and smooth. The glass barely reflected him, though. Maybe it wasn't for sale, after all – maybe it already belonged to someone, and had been brought in for a cleaning.

With that thought hovering in his mind, he reluctantly curled his fingers back into his palm. Still, he couldn't just leave it like this – he needed a memento, or no one would believe that he had become infatuated with a piece of glass and a frame.

Bringing out his phone, he primed it to take a picture and held it up, trying to fit as much of the mirror into the shot as he could. The first one he took was almost impossible to make out; with a frustrated frown, he looked up at the crappy lighting and set the flash on his phone. There might be some glare as it bounced off the glass, but at least he should be able to make the frame visible, and that was the stunning part.

He thumbed the button to take the shot – and in the sudden burst of light saw a white, featureless face, like a corpse, staring out at him from the mirror's depths. Riku dropped his phone with a strangled gasp, then heard a sharp _crack_ and looked down at where the phone had slammed against the floor. _"…Shit!"_ He bent quickly to retrieve it, finding a long split and some spider-webbing on the screen. Again, he cursed, and straightened quickly to try and study the damage under the light, momentarily forgetting the face in the glass. As he rose, however, his shoulder bumped the stand the mirror rested on and, to his utmost horror, it started to tip.

If Riku hadn't lunged in a panic right then, it might have righted itself; but his desperate grab in fact made things worse, and managed to knock the frame forward. Whoever said that these things happened as if in slow motion was lying: for Riku, it was over all too swiftly, the terrible crash as the glass shattered against the floor seeming to reverberate for days. His heart thundered, his breaths coming in short bursts. _What had he done?_ He looked around frantically for the store owner, a fierce, internal debate raging as to whether or not he should stay and face the music or _fucking run_ and protect his feeble bank balance. His feet shifted agitatedly, crunching on fragmented glass, which had splashed outward like water, sending shards spinning to every corner of the store.

Just then, the owner arrived.

She swept into view from the end of the aisle, a short, gnarled old woman with a long, black dress and sagging skin. And she. Looked. Furious. She moved faster than should have been possible, darting so sharply towards him it was like she hadn't touched the ground. Before Riku could back away and begin gabbling all the apologies that crowded behind his teeth, she snatched his wrist and squeezed, hard enough to hurt, her green eyes glinting ferociously as she howled, _"You_ _clumsy oaf! Look at what you've done!"_

"I can pay for the damage!" Riku managed to get out, lying through his teeth but frantic to appease her rage. She seemed to swell with it, seemed to – to _stretch,_ until she was no longer shorter than him but _tall,_ so tall that she was almost dragging him up by his arm, and getting taller with every second until Riku was sure she was going to pull it right out of its socket.

"Oh, you will _certainly pay,"_ she thundered in response, her voice gaining a shrill, hysterical edge. "For seven years, you will _pay!_ Your luck took a turn for the _worst_ when you came near _my_ mirror, _boy."_

With that, she wound up, and – punched him, right in the chest. He felt like his heart had hit his ribs with the force of it, but when he looked down, her hand had stopped several inches back. Instead, something terrible and dark was pouring from her and into him, making his body shake, his teeth rattle, his eyes rolling up into his skull...

And then, very abruptly, Riku found himself outside again, standing on the sidewalk, facing the road with no recollection of having got here. He was trembling all over, sick to his stomach, his chest aching. He looked down and patted himself, bewildered, looking for – for whatever that hideous black stuff had been, that _smoke…_ but he was fine. Just fine. He turned sharply, but the mirror shop was dark, the door shut and evidently locked, a small _'Closed'_ sign hanging in the window, as if it had never been open in the first place.

Feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the fact that the sun was hidden behind the district wall, or that he somehow was missing his scarf, Riku turned on his heel and started running. Whatever that had been, whatever had just happened to him… he just wanted to be as far away from the mirror store as possible.

.o.O.o.

Riku's heart was still throbbing when he eventually pushed open the door to the dorm room he shared with Tidus, after having quickly crossed the campus, trying not to look as rattled as he felt. He just – he needed to sit down somewhere quiet for a while, and gather his scattered wits.

He then nearly lost his head as, the second the door swung wide, a Blitzball came rocketing through. Riku barely managed to move out of the way in time, yelping and twisting on instinct. The ball was a blur, slamming so hard into the opposite wall it became lodged there.

For a long, breathless moment, Riku stared at it. Inside the room, Tidus was doing the same. Then all at once, the pair of them starting moving again.

"Holy _crap,_ Riku, are you okay?"

Turning on him, absolutely not able to deal with this right now, Riku gasped, "You _idiot!_ You nearly took my head off! What the hell were you thinking!?" Stalking to the where the ball sat suspended at head height, he waved his hands agitatedly at the damage. "It's _embedded in the fucking wall, Tidus!"_

Looking worried, the blond trotted out to check the damage. "Shiiiiit. Do you think they'll know it was us?"

 _"Us?_ You're the one who did it, not me! What the _fuck,_ Tidus?"

Bewildered and sorry-looking, Tidus set to work twisting the ball out from the new hole. "I – I really don't know how this happened. I was just _bouncing_ it, I swear I wasn't practicing any kicks." Managing to yank it free with a fine shower of plaster, he stared at the resultant crater.

Riku pointed to it accusingly. "You're telling me that _that_ happened because you were 'just bouncing it'?"

More baffled by the second, Tidus insisted, "Yes! I swear! I was sitting on my bed just _bouncing_ it with my hand, and then it – hit a bump or something, and catapulted away from me. I haven't practiced in our room since I broke the mirror."

At the mention of mirrors, Riku felt a chill, shaking it off with a sharp shrug. "Well – that seems highly unlikely," he gruffly said.

Tidus shrugged, the helplessness of his expression fairly convincing. "I don't know what to tell you, man. But I swear it was an accident."

Riku huffed, shook his head, and muttered, "Whatever. At least I got out of the way in time."

Tidus nodded emphatically, following him as he entered their room. "No kidding. Jesus, if that had actually _hit_ you…" He took a moment to shudder a little. "I'm… not ready to be sent to prison for manslaughter."

Riku scoffed, "It wouldn't have killed me." But as he turned and glanced back, catching a final glimpse of the wall before Tidus swung the door shut… his certainty about that weakened a little. The Blitzball had been _rocketing._ Who knew _what_ would have happened if it had hit him square on? It wasn't like the walls here were super thin. It had had some serious velocity behind it, to be able to punch into one like that. Suspicious all over again of the veracity of Tidus' claims of innocence, he glowered a little at the blond, sitting on his bed and unhooking his bag from his shoulder. Pushing his hands through his hair, he felt suddenly exhausted. It had been – a long day so far.

"I really am sorry," Tidus said, Riku eyeing him critically, before losing some of his ire at the crestfallen expression on the guy's face.

"Yeah, well – just put the damn ball away, would you? Wouldn't want to have it _bouncing_ again and take the door out next."

Tidus hurriedly complied, rolling it under his bed where it could do no further damage. A little more brightly, he said, "Anyway, I'm surprised to see you here – did your lecture get cancelled? If you're interested, me and Wakka are heading over to –"

"Oh, my _God, shit, the lecture!"_ Riku surged back up to his feet, dragging his bag with him. He leapt to the door and wrenched it open, sprinting past the hole in the wall and back out onto the campus grounds. How had he forgotten about the lecture!? How had he lost track of _time_ so badly? And the professor hosting it was notorious for locking the doors after the five-minute mark, if Riku was late then that meant that –

Yep. He'd missed the lecture.

He stood outside the bolted doors of the lecture hall and bumped his head against the wood, sighing deeply. What a day. Maybe he should have just stayed in bed. Or at least stayed on campus. It was from the moment he'd decided that going for a walk was a good idea that everything had gone downhill.

With nothing to do but glumly wait for the lecture to finish to see if he could wheedle some notes out of the professor, he slumped off towards the cafeteria. At the end of the line he found Kairi, who greeted him cheerfully. "Riku! I thought you had a lecture now?" Riku's face was all the answer she needed. She winced sympathetically. "Ouch. Missed the five-minute mark, huh?"

"By about twenty minutes," he gloomily confirmed.

"Wow. What held you up?"

Riku thought about it, scratching his head absently. "I – I guess I just took longer getting back from town that I realised. I went exploring, and…" He shook his head. He couldn't really remember – he hadn't got lost, but he'd just… he'd taken a lot longer getting back than was normal. He sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter now."

Kairi squeezed his wrist. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but – it _hurt._ With a grunt, he snatched his hand free, audibly slapping Kairi away. Startled, she exclaimed, "Ow! Riku!" It had been a sharp slap. The skin on her arm was rapidly turning pink.

Staring, Riku was momentarily lost for words. "Kairi… I…" He wanted to apologise, but – _God,_ his wrist was _stinging._ He tugged back the sleeves of his coat and sweater, Kairi letting out a low noise of surprise as their eyes fell upon a wicked bruise that encircled his flesh, dark and ugly, and very obviously in the shape of a hand print.

Dismayed, Kairi demanded, "What is that? Who did that to you?" Her eyes were as wide as saucers, Riku struck dumb as he held up his hand and inspected the damage. "Riku?"

All he could manage was a hoarsely uttered, "So it _did_ happen…"

"What?" Kairi asked, with distress. "What happened? Who hurt you like this?"

 _"Next!"_ The line had been moving, the pair of them automatically shuffling along until they were unexpectedly at the head of it. Kairi hurriedly picked a fruit salad and bought it, while Riku looked for a paopu pudding. They were his one and only vice, an indulgence that never failed to cheer him up.

After a moment of struggling to find them, he asked the lunch-lady, "Uh, where are the paopu puddings?"

"All out," she curtly answered. As Riku felt himself drooping, Kairi started poking and pushing through the cups of puddings and fruit salads, determined to help out.

After a moment, she cried, "Wait! I found one!" Triumphantly, she withdrew her arm from the refrigerated case and held up the small, sealed container of yellow pudding.

A relieved smile broke out across Riku's face. Finally, something was going right. Unzipping his bag, he reached into a pocket and felt around for his wallet. Frowning, he pulled his hand out then delved in again. He opened his bag wide, a splinter of panic starting up as he sensed the impatience of the people behind him. "Um. I – I can't find my money. My wallet's…"

Once more coming to the rescue, Kairi quickly stepped in as the lunch-lady reached to confiscate his pudding. "Here – I'll get it." She handed over the money and pushed the dessert into Riku's hand, taking his elbow and tugging him gently out of line. "Come on, come over here and we'll look together."

They found a table by the windows, and spent a good ten minutes sifting through Riku's belongings – but nowhere amongst it all was his wallet. Numbly, he mumbled, "Maybe I left it back in the dorm…?" He was so sure he'd had it on him, though.

Kairi, sitting down and peeling the lid off her fruit salad, asked, "What's going on with you today? What on earth happened to your wrist?"

Riku distantly shook his head. His stuff firmly zipped back up in his bag, he sat across from her and glumly opened his pudding. "I – I don't really know." He had a memory of what had happened in the mirror shop, but… actually making _sense_ of it was impossible. It wasn't like that old lady could _really_ have grown seven feet high and crushed a bruise into his wrist – it wasn't like that black stuff had _really_ poured out of her and into him, or that he'd then magically appeared outside the shop like he'd never walked in. Had he? Had he really entered the mirror store? It was starting to feel increasingly like a hazy, bad dream.

Dipping a plastic spoon into his dessert, he swirled it around pensively then brought a scoop to his lips. At least paopu pudding never changed.

Except for this time.

 _"Br – blurgh!"_ Nearly gagging, Riku spat out what he could of his mouthful, though some of it had definitely gone down. Most of it, if he was honest with himself. He just didn't like to think about it too hard.

Kairi blinked in astonishment. "Riku, what…?"

"Ahhhh…!" He stuck out his tongue and rubbed it furiously with his sleeve, then reached across the table and grabbed Kairi's fruit salad, slurping some of the juice out of it. "Oh, my God. The pudding is _rancid,_ it tastes like a dairy died!"

Picking up the pudding cup, Kairi cautiously sniffed it, recoiling a second later with a choke. "Oh. Wow. Oh, no, that's awful."

With a long groan, Riku lowered his head to the table. "I wonder how long that pudding was hidden away like that…?"

 _"Oh."_ Kairi sounded uneasy. When Riku lifted his head enough to look at her, she was staring at the underside of the pudding cup. "Yeah, the expiration date is…" She glanced over at Riku, then set the cup down to one side. "…Never mind. Just… don't eat any more of it."

With another groan, Riku hid his face back behind his arm. Oh, _man,_ the taste in his mouth was unpleasant. This had to be his quota for terrible luck for the day, _surely._

Fate seemed to disagree. He got zero warning before his chair broke. All of a sudden, he was on his back, staring up at the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria with his hair spread around his head like a halo, one leg sticking into the air. He heard Kairi shriek, _"Riku!"_ and her red-haired, wide-eyed visage was in his line of vision a few moments later. "Are you okay!?"

"…Ouch." He'd slammed his head pretty hard against the tiles. When he tried to sit up, Kairi let out a small cry and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Riku! There's blood!"

Alarmed, he reached behind his head and felt around. His fingers met with a rapidly swelling knot, and a warm dampness. Bringing his hand in front of his eyes, he closed his fingers several times over the red gleam until it turned sticky. "…I am having," he commented unsteadily, "a _really bad day."_

Concern stamped all over her face, Kairi helped him to his feet, curling one of his arms over her shoulders and grabbing his bag for him. "All right, that's it. I am taking you to the emergency room, _right now."_

"Kairi… I'm okay, it's not so bad…"

She was having none of his excuses. "Riku," she firmly repeated, "I am _taking_ you to the _emergency room."_

Meekly, he shut up and capitulated. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. And anyway, it wasn't like he had a lecture to get to.

.o.O.o.

The trip to the emergency room… didn't go all that well.

The moment they headed out in Kairi's little car, they hit traffic so thick and slow it took them forty minutes just to get to the end of the block. They could have walked the five miles to the general hospital and gotten there sooner. Kairi was fuming with impatience by the time they finally arrived, with Riku holding a bundle of tissues from her purse against the back of his head. He couldn't tell if the dizziness he was feeling was from hitting his head or all the exhaust fumes he'd had to inhale in the traffic, after Kairi's air conditioning randomly died and forced them to open the windows to prevent the air in the car from turning uncomfortably stale.

Once they were on hospital property, the next issue became finding a parking space. Around and around they drove, until finally they snagged a spot as someone was leaving. At this point, an hour and a half had passed since they'd left campus. Kairi led the way into the ER, sitting Riku down and going to arrange things with the triage nurse on his behalf. It seemed to take an inordinately long time, and when Kairi eventually returned to him, she looked exhausted.

"They didn't want to take you because we haven't got your insurance details." Riku again thought of his missing wallet and winced. "It's okay, though – I got them to call HBU, and eventually they handed over your details when I threatened to sue them for the chair breaking and injuring you."

Riku grinned a little at the girl's tenacity. Nobody messed with Kairi's friends; she was a ferocious mother hen. "Thanks, Kairi."

And then, they waited. And they waited. And… they _waited._ Several times, Kairi popped up to go ask when someone would see Riku, and each time she was told "Soon". Riku could feel her seething next to him, checking every now and again on the state of his head, which throbbed painfully. Whenever she removed the tissues, more blood would come oozing out. It was a cut that didn't want to close.

Eventually, someone appeared, and took Riku into a sterile area to inspect the wound. Tutting, the doctor told him, "This is going to need stitches." She then proceeded to shave a patch of Riku's hair off in order to do so. When it was all done, Kairi gingerly tied the rest of his hair into a loose ponytail to hide the bald spot. When they wearily stepped outside the hospital, hand in hand, night had fallen.

The drive back to the campus was a quiet one. Riku wasn't in pain anymore because of the medication he'd been given, but he was just… so tired. So ridiculously tired. Still, he would probably still be bleeding slowly over everything if it wasn't for Kairi, and so it was with heartfelt gratitude that he turned to her and started, "Hey, Kairi –" She glanced over at him, but Riku was no longer looking at her. "Jesus _shit!"_

He lunged across and grabbed the wheel, wrenching it towards himself as a car came speeding towards them through a red light, its headlights dowsing the interior of Kairi's car. Everything became a blur as the car swerved off course, Kairi screaming, horns blaring, followed by a bone-shuddering crash.

It took a little while for the world to stop seeming like it was spinning, by which point passers-by and other motorists were opening the car's doors, worried faces and voices reaching Riku through a daze. He was helped out of the vehicle, and it was only as the cold night air started to clear his head that he thought of his best friend.

"Kairi!" He turned to search for her, going weak with relief at the sight of her standing a short distance away, looking pale and shaken but otherwise unharmed. He staggered over, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Are you all right? _Are you all right?"_

She nodded, expression shocked, and he folded her into a tight hug. Turning, he demanded of the small crowd, with rising anger, "Who's the asshole who was in the other car?"

Nervously, a man stepped forward. "I – I'm so sorry. I –"

"Sorry?" Riku snapped, furiously. "You could've _killed_ us!"

"I tried to stop," the guy pitifully explained, "but my brakes didn't work. I swear it. I didn't run that light on purpose."

Riku stared at him, realising that this was the second time today that someone was swearing that something that had nearly been pretty fucking dangerous had been an accident out of their control. Only this time, Kairi had been involved, and it _really_ could've been fatal. It was amazing that neither of them had been hurt. Looking over at Kairi's car, he saw that they had smashed into the traffic light pole on the other side of the intersection. The entire front right half of the hood was crushed. If it had gone any further, _Riku_ might have been crushed right along with it. He felt himself quiver. This was going way beyond any 'bad day' he'd had before. With a sinking feeling, he thought back to the crone in the mirror store. Hadn't she – said something about making him pay? And between that and the darkness… and everything that had happened since then…

For now, he held Kairi tightly, glad that she hadn't been hurt. Contemplation about crazy mirror stores and their owners could wait for later.

.o.O.o.

Somehow, Riku managed to get back to his dorm late that night and topple into bed without any further disasters befalling him. He had nightmares, though – horrible nightmares about old women surrounded by darkness, and a featureless white face moaning his name. He woke early, in a cold sweat, already reaching for his phone. He had forgotten about the white face in the mirror. Dreaming about it made him realise something: if he really _had_ been in that store yesterday, then the pictures he took would still be on his phone.

He navigated to his gallery quickly, and, after a moment's searching, felt a wave of goose-bumps sweep his body. It was here, plain as the daylight slowly spilling through his dorm room window: the mirror. First the dark picture, then the one with the flash – and… the face.

Feeling faint, Riku lay back down for a few minutes, mind racing. _It had actually happened._ He _had_ been inside the mirror store, and something had _happened_ while he was in there. He _had_ managed to smash the mirror, the old woman _had_ showed up, had left the dark bruise on his wrist, and had – attacked him somehow. With what, he still didn't know. It defied all sense and logic. But the fact remained that since that moment, since he had found himself abruptly outside as though nothing had happened, _everything_ had been going wrong. Yesterday hadn't just been a bad day – it had been a catastrophic sequence of events almost maliciously designed to make him suffer, if not outright kill him. And Kairi, for the crime of being a good friend, had got caught up in it with him. As it was, she was without a car now. Her insurance would cover the damage, but it had been a terrifying experience for her, and she had narrowly avoided serious injury. If that had happened because of… because of…

The words _'some curse'_ ran through his head before he could catch them, making him shiver. He was a reasonable guy, not given to paranoia or attacks of imagination, but… he was having a hard time shaking those words free.

A curse. Was that what this was?

And if so… what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

.o.O.o.

Rumour had it that there was a psychic on campus. Riku had heard it in passing and laughed it off, just like everyone else, because come on – whoever was claiming _that_ was obviously off their freaking nut. But since his experiences following his disastrous visit to the mirror store yesterday, Riku was feeling a little more… open-minded about such things. That, and desperate.

In casual conversation with Tidus, he managed to learn that Wakka knew more about it than he did, and Wakka directed him to Selphie, who'd told _him_ all about it, who informed Riku that a girl who worked at the library knew the resident HBU psychic personally.

Feeling a weird combination of both extremely silly and somewhat nervous, Riku made his way to the campus library. It was vast and quiet, Riku clearing his throat anxiously as he walked up to the front desk. "Hi," he said quietly, the librarian on duty looking up with a friendly smile. "Is – is Yuffie working today?"

"Sure am!" A loud, bright voice piped up from off to the side of the desk, a short, energetic girl bouncing up from where she'd been loading books onto the bottom of a cart. She brushed her hands on her shorts and came over expectantly. "What can I do you for? Do we know each other? I don't remember meeting you before."

Uneasy at the volume at which she spoke in the hushed environment, Riku answered, "Um, no, we haven't met, but I was told to come speak with you. Uh – can we go somewhere we won't be… overheard?"

She gave him a squinting look up and down. "Hmm." After a moment's thought, she came to a quick decision. "Okay! Belle, I'm taking my break. Be back soon!"

Yuffie pranced ahead, Riku struggling to keep up as she headed upstairs and over to a bank of vending machines. "All right, cutie. Buy me a drink and I'm allll yours!" she promised, with an exaggeratedly suggestive wink. Riku floundered.

"I'm… I'm sorry, but I lost my wallet yesterday…"

She dimmed. "Aw. Well, never mind, then. And I was kidding about the 'all yours' part anyway, I have a boyfriend." She bought her own drink, and, popping the can open, said, "Well, I guess I can talk, at least. Who sent you to me, and why?"

Riku hesitated, then gave short, tense laugh. "Ah, it's kind of a funny story." She waited as he attempted to find something funny about it all, before giving up after several long, awkwardly silent moments. "Well… anyway… The reason I'm here is because…" He fidgeted, Yuffie rolling her eyes and gesturing for him to continue.

"It's okay, I won't bite your head off. Go on, go on, I don't have all day!"

Clearing his throat, Riku reluctantly said, "I've been having these – problems, since… since something weird happened to me yesterday, and I was just wondering…"

He trailed off, the girl nodding in a circular motion, prompting, "You were wonderiiiing?"

"…I was told that you know the college psychic." He said it in a rushed mutter, almost hoping she'd mishear and he could chicken out when she asked for him to repeat himself. But nope – she heard him, all right.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the suspicion bubbling back up. "Hmm." She gave him another up-and-down scrutinising. "Why? What're these big, psychic-requiring problems you've got?"

Riku hesitated, then figured that, even if she thought he was weird, honesty was the best policy. "Bad things have been happening. I keep either nearly getting hurt, or actually getting hurt, and last night my friend and I were in a car crash, and I think – I think it has to do with some creepy old lady in a mirror store. I might… I might be cursed."

Yuffie blinked, her mouth hanging slightly open. "…Well," she said at last, after letting it all sink in. "I would definitely say that that warrants some psychic intervention. _If_ it's true." Before Riku could argue that it definitely _was,_ she shrugged and added, "Oh, well – he'll know if it is or not. He's pretty good."

"He?" Somehow, Riku had been expecting some misty-eyed, flower-child girl with tarot cards. Well, a guy could still be a misty-eyed flower-child with tarot cards, he supposed.

"His name's Sora," Yuffie told him, before perkily adding, "He works here! I can get him for you right now." Riku experienced a moment's panic. He hadn't expected to be meeting the psychic so quickly. He wasn't – mentally prepared for this. Seeing his hesitation, Yuffie archly asked, "You do _have_ a problem, don't you? You're not with the school paper looking for a crackpot story, right?"

Earnestly, Riku shook his head. "No, I – I definitely have a problem."

"Well, then, you wait here and I'll go get Sora." She wasn't really giving him the option of saying 'no'. Swallowing, Riku feebly nodded, and Yuffie bounced off to find 'Psychic Sora'. Ugh, why had he thought about the guy's name like that? Now he wouldn't be able to get 'Psychic Sora' out of his head.

There were some chairs and tables by the vending machines, so Riku carefully took a seat, testing it first to make sure it would hold him. His head still stung like a bitch after yesterday's little fall – he wasn't keen to go through that all over again. Once seated, however, he became rapidly restless. It was hard to just sit in place and wait for a _psychic_ to show up, and he'd been on edge since last night. Not only that, but having the face in the mirror confirmed this morning had been… a rattling experience. The fact that he'd been _reduced_ to this, to seeking help from someone who very likely just had an overactive imagination and a penchant for the occult left him feeling squirmy.

Glancing over at the wall of vending machines, he felt temptation arise. He hadn't eaten yet this morning – he didn't trust anything at the cafeteria right now – but… something from the machines might be okay. It'd be hard for, say, a granola bar to mess him up. Well, unless it were to get lodged in his windpipe… but if he started thinking like that, he'd go crazy and starve to death. And it wasn't like _everything_ could be potentially lethal – right?

With no sign of Yuffie returning yet, Riku made up his mind to buy something. Despite what he'd told Yuffie, he was certain that he'd spied a few coins when he and Kairi had gone through his stuff yesterday. After a minute of digging through his bag, sure enough, he was able to scrape together a couple of dollars. Not enough for a granola bar, but enough for at least a soda. It was… well, it was something. Riku fed the coins into the machine and pressed the button for a drink – and nothing happened.

Exasperated, he hammered it several more times, muttering, "I don't believe this." Of _course_ the machine stole his money and gave nothing in return. "Just – _great."_

He heard a soft chuckle from behind him. "You chose a bad machine. That one's notorious for it." Riku looked over his shoulder and found a boy with brown, spiky hair and blue eyes smiling kindly. Pointing over to the one next to it, he said, "That's the old reliable there – it never takes without at least _something_ in return."

Sighing, Riku replied, "Well, that was all the change I had. So I guess I'll have to remember that for next time."

"Ouch. Bad luck." The boy reached into his pocket and removed a ten-dollar bill. He stepped around Riku and let 'the old reliable' take it. "What can I get you?" Riku blinked, shook his head, the boy saying, "No? Nothing? I'm getting something for me anyway, so you might as well make your bid. If you don't say what you want, I'll just have to guess."

"A… s-soda," he answered. "Please. And – thanks."

The boy pushed the button, and, sure enough, the drink dropped down with a clatter. He bent and grabbed it out, handing it over to Riku with another broad smile. "You're welcome," he said simply. He got himself an iced coffee, tearing open the straw's packaging with his teeth and poking it through the hole in the top. "Want to sit?" he offered. Riku reluctantly shook his head.

"Sorry. I'm waiting for someone."

The boy's smile reached high enough to make his eyes crinkle as he gave a slight laugh. "Uh, I should introduce myself." He held out a hand. "I'm Sora. It's nice to meet you. Yuffie never gave me your name."

Riku stared for a long moment. This – was the psychic guy? Psychic Sora? But – he looked so _normal._ He was wearing faded jeans and a red hoodie, and had… a nice face, nice smile, nice voice – a lot of nice there – but he also spoke directly, and just – Riku had not been expecting this. No, he had not.

Abruptly aware that he was gaping like an idiot, he hastily grasped the guy's hand and shook. "Uh – Riku. Nice to meet you, too."

Gesturing to the tables and chairs, Sora asked, "So? Want to?" Riku nodded mutely, and together they went over and sat down. Watery sunlight lit the room, giving the library a calm feel, a sense that was increased by the immense tranquillity this Sora guy gave off. Already, Riku was starting to feel a little less on edge. As they settled, Sora smiled again, seeming to be filled with an endless supply of them, and Riku felt a tentative curve of his own lips in response.

And then his soda exploded.

It just – erupted, everywhere, the second he put it down. He and Sora both jumped up, Sora exclaiming, _"Ohh!"_ He glanced around. "I'll – go get something to wipe that up," he said, before hurrying off, leaving his drink on the table. Grimacing, Riku did his best to shake himself off. Luckily, his hair was still tied back, to cover his new bald spot, so not a lot of it had been hit. But he could feel the cold fluid trickling down the front of his shirt, and knew he was going to be extremely sticky for a couple of hours. He glared at the offending can, which now sat looking perfectly harmless and innocent in the wake of its ambush. He resentfully flipped it off.

Before too long, Sora returned with a handful of paper towels from the bathroom. "Man, that thing must've been shook up something fierce!" he commented with surprise, doing his best to start soaking up the mess. Riku scowled, accepting the piece that Sora offered him and wiping his face and neck.

"Yeah. I guess so."

Detecting his dark tone, Sora glanced over. "Um, so – how about while I clean up, you tell me what your problem is? It's rare for someone to seek me out like this."

Riku studied him for a long moment. "You're really – you know. Psychic?"

Sora shrugged a little. "It's sort of a gift, sort of not. It runs in the family. I see some things, I feel some things. Why? Yuffie said you told her bad things have been happening, and you think it's something I could help with?"

Riku nodded. "It's – all pretty crazy," he muttered. When Sora gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to elaborate, he took a deep breath and, steeling himself for possible mockery, embarked upon the explanation. He told Sora everything that had happened – the mirror store, the antique he broke, the old lady, and all the weird things that happened from there, culminating in the near-miss he and Kairi had driving back from the hospital. By the time he was done, Sora had finished mopping up the soda, and sat on a chair looking grave.

"That sounds pretty shady," he soberly remarked. "And that's probably why you chose the change-eating machine and then got soda all over you, right?"

Riku half-heartedly shrugged. "That part sounds kind of lame, compared to everything else, but – yeah, probably."

Sora beckoned him over to sit down in the chair next to him. "Come here. I believe you. I'll see what I can sense, okay?"

Warily, Riku did as he was bidden. Sitting awkwardly beside Sora, he asked, "Okay – what do I have to do?"

"Just give me your hands, Riku. I'll do the rest."

Uncertainly, Riku held his hands out. Sora took them and held them lightly, gave him a reassuring smile, then closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate. As he did, Riku took the few, silent minutes to get a good look at him. He noticed that Sora had long, pretty eyelashes. The shape of his face was attractive, and his hair looked soft. His hands were pleasant, too – they were warm, grasping him firmly without feeling the need to squeeze. Riku wondered why he hadn't seen him around before, because Sora, on closer inspection, was someone he was sure he'd remember.

At last, Sora slowly exhaled, and opened his eyes. When he looked up at Riku, he appeared troubled. "There's a darkness in you. It's deep, and it's dangerous."

Riku blanched. Even knowing that something was up, hearing it stated so plainly caught him off-guard. "Wh-what? Are you sure?"

Sora was grim. "Absolutely certain. It's powerful, and just – everywhere. It's all through you. Riku, tell me, how do you feel? Do you feel… okay?"

Well, not anymore. He felt positively spooked. But he spent a moment taking stock. "Well, I mean, I've felt a little _off_ since yesterday, I guess. My chest was sore for a while, and I felt sick, but I don't know how much of the nausea was from that pudding. Why? _Am_ I okay?" He felt a chill of fear at the seriousness on Sora's face.

The guy gave him a cautious, appraising look. "You seem all right, more or less. You're a little pale, and a little dark under the eyes, but considering the last twenty-four hours, I'm not all that surprised by that." His mouth quirked thoughtfully. "You said… that the old woman told you 'you'll pay for seven years', right?" He considered this when Riku nodded. "Maybe – maybe the reason there's so much darkness is because it's seven years' worth."

With a sharp breath, Riku demanded, "So – this is going to keep happening? All this – terrible luck? For _seven years?"_ He felt a moment's blind terror at the thought. _Seven years?_ He'd barely got through a day! How in the hell was he meant to survive for seven years like this!?

Eager to soothe him, Sora made a calming gesture with his hands. "Hey, hey, it's okay – breathe, Riku. I'm not going to let that happen. You did the right thing in seeking me out, I'm going to do everything I can to make it right."

Desperate for hope, Riku demanded, "So you can do something about this? You can get it out of me?"

Sora… didn't look so sure. "Well, I don't know if _I_ have the ability, personally… That's not really my thing, you know? I've got some fey in me, and that's about all. But, before you go looking all disappointed – I know _one_ place we could start trying to fix this whole mess."

"Where? I'll do anything," Riku frantically vowed.

Sora smiled. "That's good! Good. Hold on to that determination, because, uh, we're going to go back to that mirror store, and you're going to formally apologise to the old lady." Riku stared for so long that Sora started to fidget. At length, he asked, "Do you have a _better_ idea?"

Inhaling slowly, Riku looked over at the window. In a faded voice, he heard himself say, "…I'm ready whenever you are."


	4. Shattered Pt 2

Prompt: Shattered  
Main pairing: RiSo  
Rating: T  
Word count: 9297  
AO3 collection: /collections/AkuRokuRiSo_Month  
Prompter: wordsebbandflow (tumblr)

.o.O.o.

Understanding that these were extreme circumstances, Sora begged off the rest of his work shift, Yuffie promising, with a curious glance between them, to cover for him.

They stood now at the bus shelter outside of HBU, Riku extremely uneasy about the prospect of heading into downtown Hollow Bastion. "The last time I got into a car, we got into a crash," he muttered to Sora, tugging on his sleeve and speaking into his ear so none of the other students waiting for the bus could hear his crazy chatter. "If I get on this bus… Sora, what's going to happen to all these people?"

Sora looked up at him with a slight smile. "It'll be okay," he whispered back. "I'm here with you. I'll combat it with everything I've got. Okay?" He held up his fists in a mock fighting stance, adopting a fierce expression designed to lighten Riku's mood. But, while he did think that Sora looked extraordinarily cute like that, Riku just couldn't shake this worry. He and Kairi had managed to avoid serious injury because he'd seen it coming at the last possible second and altered their course; he wouldn't have that option on a bus.

Still, they had to get downtown if Sora's idea was going to work, and walking wasn't an option. It'd be too easy for some random car – or even the bus he was planning to catch right now – to swerve a little and knock him down. With Sora beside him, he didn't like that idea any more than the threat of being on the bus. At least this way, he reasoned to himself, he chanced getting there faster.

Still, Sora seemed reasonably confident. "It'll be okay," he repeated, and startled Riku by taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Just stick with me." When Riku stammered a little and looked down at their joined hands, Sora, looking unsure, asked, "I'm sorry – does this make you uncomfortable? It's just that it works better this way. I can keep the darkness back if we're touching."

"No! No, it doesn't make me… uncomfortable." If anything, it made Riku feel – warm inside. He darted a look around the bus shelter, the idea occurring to him that anyone who looked at them like this would think they were _together_. Somehow, that thought gave him a little rush. To show Sora just how un-uncomfortable he was with the arrangement, he gripped the guy's hand a little tighter, and, when the bus came, they climbed the stairs side by side. Moving down the aisle in this fashion was a little trickier, but once they were seated it was quite cosy. Sort of – pleasant, really. Almost like going on a date.

To… a mirror store. With a crazy, witch-like owner. To beg for her forgiveness so that she might remove the darkness she had punched into him. Right. Super romantic.

He chanced a little sideways glance at Sora, who was by the window, and found a half-smile on the guy's lips as he gazed out at the passing world. Well… at least he was okay with all this. That was good. And, amazingly, Riku got through the bus ride in one piece, without a single thing having gone wrong. Every now and then he and Sora had to adjust their grip on one another a little, but otherwise everything was – good.

They descended to the street at the stop nearest to the mirror store, on the outskirts of the commercial district. Luckily, even though Riku had only been to the place once, it was easy to locate again because of the wall that overshadowed it. At the top of the hill, he and Sora gazed down, Riku lifting his free hand to point. "There. See the sign?"

"Sure do. You ready?" Sora's eyes had narrowed slightly, but otherwise he kept his light-hearted calm, which Riku used to steady himself. Without Sora, he'd have been a nervous wreck by now. _With_ Sora, he felt like he do this.

Hands clasped, they made their way downhill until they came to a halt outside the mirror store. Sora scanned the outside of the shop closely, while Riku felt his nerves tighten.

"Shall we?" Sora prompted, and reluctantly, Riku stepped inside with him. It was open again, like yesterday, and similarly just as empty. Swallowing thickly, Riku looked around for the old woman who had yelled at him. Sora, too, was peering this way and that. "Hmm. No one here. Wanna look around?"

They ventured down the aisle that Riku had walked along yesterday, the mirrors reflecting their faces back at them. Down at the end, there stood a blank space where the antique mirror Riku had broken had stood. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing the area. "It was here," he told Sora, with dread in his voice. "I took two photos of it, then when I saw… the face… I dropped my phone, and knocked the mirror when I stood back up."

"Can I see? The picture with the face?" Riku fumbled to get his phone and swipe to the correct image. He held it up to show Sora, who frowned. Glancing over at where Riku had pointed to, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's the same place, all right. And talk about spooky. What kind of a mirror _was_ that?"

"I have no idea, and I don't think I want to," Riku unhappily replied. "Whatever it was, it was _freaky."_

"No wonder you dropped your phone," Sora murmured. He then tilted his head on a slight angle, peering more closely at the photo. "Hmm. But you know, even though the two places look the same… there's something a bit different about it."

"Different?" Uncomprehendingly, Riku frowned at the image.

"Yeah." Sora gazed around carefully, before lifting his eyes to the ceiling. "It's really dark in your photos, but this place seems a lot lighter today."

Mimicking Sora, Riku looked around. Now that he mentioned it – it _did_ look a little brighter than he remembered. The overhead lights that had been too feeble for the first photograph seemed stronger today, like maybe the bulbs had been replaced. That'd be a weird coincidence, though, wouldn't it?

"Hey, I've got an idea. May I?" Sora reached for Riku's phone, who handed it over curiously. Suddenly, Sora moved close – so close that their cheeks were nearly touching. He then lifted Riku's phone, reversed the camera, and grinned. "Say 'cheese'!" While Riku was still gawping, Sora took a photo. He then lowered the phone to inspect the picture. After a moment, he let out a soft, triumphant, "I knew it!" He held it up to show Riku, who was still distracted by how close he was. "See?"

Riku forced himself to focus, then promptly frowned. "Hey – it's lighter. It's a normal picture."

"Without the flash," Sora pointed out. He swiped back to Riku's first attempt to photograph the mirror, and again said, "See?"

…He was right. When Riku had tried taking that picture, the whole thing had been murky. It was a series of dim lines that you could only barely make out by straining your eyes. The picture he and Sora had just taken, on the other hand… was crystal clear. The lighting might not have been _great_ in the store, but neither was it negligent. You could take a photo just fine.

"Maybe it's because we're facing the windows," Riku dubiously suggested. "More light exposure or something."

"Let's test!" Sora turned them around, and for good measure took a few steps back into the area where the mirror had been poised on its stand. Pressing their faces together again, Sora cheerfully cried, "Cheeeese!"

Riku's awkward half-smile was painful to look at… but you could see it. Clear as day. No flash required.

"What… does this mean?" he wondered. Before Sora could answer, they were both startled by the appearance of a middle-aged woman. She stepped out from a back room, blinking at them, and approached with a polite smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you boys come in. Can I help you with something?"

Sora glanced up at Riku, who shook his head slightly. This was definitely not the same woman from yesterday. Sora stepped forward, giving a return smile of his own. "Good morning, ma'am. We've just been looking around, trying to find a good mirror for our dorm room. My friend over here," he tossed his head towards Riku, "has pretty specific tastes, though. Do you stock any antiques, by any chance?"

She looked mildly surprised. "Antiques? Oh, my, no. As you can see," she waved a hand at their surroundings, "we stock a wide variety of mirrors, but they're all completely new. You'd want an antique store for that, dear," she added, to Riku.

Sora's smile froze a little. "Oh. And you've – never stocked antiques? Not even for a while?"

She shook her head firmly. "I'm afraid not. We're just not that type of a store."

"Do you clean mirrors, ma'am?" Riku broke in, drawing her attention.

"Well, yes," she answered. "We have a service for that. My husband uses a particular polish –"

"Is there anyone else that runs this store with you?" Sora asked, the woman blinking and twisting her head back to him. She was beginning to grow flustered by the barrage of questions.

"Besides my husband? No. This is our store. We can't afford help, either, so if that's what you boys are here for, I'm sorry. With the way the economy's been…"

"What about an old woman? Your mother, maybe? Someone's grandma?" Riku pressed. When the woman looked confused, he went on doggedly, "Look, I was in here yesterday, and there was an old woman working here. I know she was."

"Well, I don't know which mirror store you were in, but it wasn't ours," the woman replied, with a hint of defiance. Looking at each of them in turn, she asked, "Are you boys here for a mirror or not?"

After a brief silence, Riku confessed, "I'm the one who broke the mirror yesterday." The woman eyed him strangely.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was in here yesterday, looking for a new mirror, and you had a big, old mirror set up on a stand, right where I'm standing. I accidentally knocked it over, and it broke." The woman was looking at him blankly now. Feeling his frustration rising, Riku asked, "It was here for cleaning, right? Then, in that case, the woman I met was the owner of that mirror. I'd like to meet her, please, ma'am. I'd like to apologise properly, in person, and offer reparations. She was – _really_ upset about her mirror, and I am _really_ sorry that I broke it."

"We haven't had any mirrors like that brought in for cleaning," the woman told him firmly. "And no old women, either. I think you must be mistaken, young man. Now, I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave, right away, before I'm forced to call my husband out."

"But – _please -!"_

"Riku…" He stopped as Sora laid a hand against his shoulder. Giving him a sympathetic look, he softly said, "Let's go, okay? I don't think we're going to find her here."

Riku stared at him helplessly for a moment, not ready to give in. "But… It _was_ here…"

"Come on. Let's talk about this somewhere else – okay?" Sora's searching gaze touched his desperation, silently promising that they weren't out of options, and after a moment he gave a despondent nod. Turning to the woman, Sora apologised, "I'm sorry, ma'am, we obviously made a mistake. We won't bother you again." He then led Riku out of the store, once again grasping his hand.

Once they were back up at the top of the hill, Sora found a short alleyway for them to briefly retreat into. Turning to Riku, giving his shoulders a bracing rub, he asked, "You okay? Still with me, Riku?" Riku glumly nodded, Sora grimacing, understanding his bewilderment and disappointment. It wasn't even like Riku had really expected anything much to come of this – that old lady yesterday had been way too crazy for a sensible talk, let alone an apology – but even so, he hadn't expected for it to end like _this._ Like… like none of it had ever even been there. Like yesterday barely existed.

"It really did happen," he told Sora, to which the boy nodded.

"I know. Not only did I believe you anyway, but you've got that picture, too."

Riku stiffened in dismay. "The picture! Oh, man, I should've shown it to her…"

But Sora shook his head. "I don't think she ever knew it was there. She was being totally truthful when she was answering our questions, I couldn't sense any deceit or anything from her, and believe me, I was tuned in. I was tuned in to the whole shop – but nothing was coming back. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway."

"What, then?" Riku demanded, thoroughly sick of the mystery of it all. "How could it have been there yesterday, but there be no trace or even _memory_ of it today?"

"Maybe that's it," Sora mused, folding his hands behind his head as he thought. "Maybe it's the _memory_ that's gone. What if the mirror _was_ there, and it _was_ supposed to be cleaned, but when you broke it, it disappeared?"

"From _existence?"_ Riku sceptically asked. Sora shrugged.

"Maybe? Maybe the old woman you saw was its owner… Or, maybe she was part of the mirror. Considering how dark the place was, and what was done to you, there was a serious dark power inside it – then, when you broke it, you made her angry. Some… spirit inside the mirror, or around the mirror. Whoever she was, I can figure out this much: she is definitely the source of all that darkness. The darkness of the mirror's glass, the darkness in the store, the darkness in you – they're all connected to _her."_

"And, what? Once the mirror was smashed, she was gone? And when she was gone, all memories of her were gone?" Riku shook his head, scraping a hand through his hair without thinking. "That's _nut – ow!"_ He had bumped the bandage that lay over the cut at the back of his head, wincing as the pain shot through his scalp.

"Hey," Sora said, slipping a hand back into his. "How about we go get some lunch and sort this out – hm?"

Riku sighed. "Yeah. Okay." Fifteen minutes later, however, he wanted to hide himself away with embarrassment. "I'm… really sorry," he mumbled as, once again, Sora was going to have to pay for him. "When I get my wallet back, I'll definitely reimburse you."

"It's okay, Riku." Sora darted him a warm smile. "It's my treat. You deserve it."

They were in a small restaurant off the main downtown thoroughfare, in a booth by the window. Sora had chosen it, when they'd been asked where they wanted to sit. "The more light, the better," he had confidently prescribed. When the waitress had brought the menus over, though, Riku had been struck all over again by his sudden lack of cash.

"I swear, I'm not normally a mooch," he helplessly told Sora, who waved him off with a laugh.

"Riku, believe it or not – and feel free to hate me a little for saying this – but I'm kind of having a good time. I like spending time with you." With another of his patented smiles, the kind that Riku was beginning to think were for Sora's face and Sora's face only, he said, "You're a good guy. I can feel it. Meeting you is…" He stopped, then appeared to rephrase: "I'm glad that I met you."

Riku felt his misery stir, lightening a little from its settled state in the pit of his stomach. "I – I don't hate you for something like that," he muttered, and somehow this made the other boy beam. He gave Sora a crooked smile of his own, and tried to choose something cheap from the menu.

While they were waiting for their food, Sora asked, "Is your head okay?"

Resisting the urge to touch the bandage, Riku nodded. "Yeah. It stings, but I'll live."

Losing some of his energy, Sora said, "Sorry that it didn't work out in the store."

With more than a little hopelessness, Riku asked heavily, "So, what do we do now? If I can't find the old woman who did this to me, and if the lady at the mirror place can't even remember _having_ the mirror, how am I supposed to make this right?"

Sora placed his fingertips together and pressed them thoughtfully to his lips, distracting Riku momentarily from his despair by the way the gesture drew attention to his mouth. "I think," Sora said slowly, encouraging him back to the here-and-now, "that we need to let the idea of finding the woman from the mirror go. It was only my first idea," he hastened to add, before Riku could sag in disbelief. "I have more than one! I have – two." He grinned sheepishly, and Riku, despite himself, couldn't help but try to grin back. It was a ridiculous, insane situation, but at least Sora was trying. He couldn't ask for more than that.

"All right, then. What's Plan B?"

"Not really 'Plan B'," Sora answered, "so much as 'what's behind Door Number Two'. I don't want you feeling like this is the backup plan. That first idea probably wasn't going to work, even if we _had_ found the old woman from the mirror." So, he'd thought the same as Riku, then. Some old hag who had cursed him in the first place and left his wrist black and blue probably wasn't going to be open to conciliation. "Instead," Sora continued, "what I'd like to do is find something to counter the darkness in you."

Riku blinked. "What, so we just – leave it there? All that darkness?" He didn't like the thought of entertaining that idea. "What would it do to me, though? I… I don't know, Sora…"

"What it _would_ do is what it's _already_ doing," the boy answered, "which is making you suffer. If the old woman cursed you with seven years' bad luck, then that's what it's there for. Maybe over the span of seven years it'll naturally leave your body – I don't know. But if you have something to counteract it, you should be able to live a perfectly normal life, without being afraid of it."

"What kind of something?" Riku dejectedly asked. Sora's eyes shone.

"A lucky charm."

Riku arched an eyebrow. "What, like – some dead rabbit's mangy foot? Or a four-leaf clover?"

Sora snorted. "Pfft. No. I didn't say 'superstitious crap', I said a _lucky charm._ You've got all that darkness in you, right? Well, then, what we need in order to counteract is something _light._ If we can find something that's light-filled, we should be able to protect you from the darkness' ill effects."

Riku was hesitant, but wanted so badly to believe that he wasn't doomed to spending the next seven years dodging deadly bad luck and avoiding loved ones for their own good. "Do you really think it could work?"

Sora gave a rueful grin and an apologetic shrug. "Actually, it was my first idea. I just felt like if the old woman was willing to talk, it'd make our job a _lot_ easier. But, yes, I think it'll work." He reached across the table, curling Riku's hands into his own, a sensation that was almost familiar by now, even if the little jump his insides made each time was far from fading. "I have a _really_ good feeling about this, Riku. I promise. I feel like this is definitely the answer."

Riku drew a breath, and nodded. Sora was the only one with half a clue here, after all – he wasn't going to argue with him. "Then… okay. But where do we find a – a 'light-filled lucky charm'?"

Sora squeezed his hands encouragingly. "As close to home as we can get."

.o.O.o.

Once they had eaten and Sora had paid, they clasped hands and returned to the college campus by bus again. Once more, no disasters hit along the way. In fact, ever since the soda incident, Riku had been left unmolested – it seemed as if Sora really _was_ able to keep the darkness at bay. That was almost enough to make him relax.

When they got back, Sora requested to be taken to Riku's room, and so it was with a quickening pulse and drying mouth that he led the way to his and Tidus' dorm. He tried to keep the nervousness from his expression – and the shadow of eagerness that hovered behind it. _Gah._ Taking Sora to his room, after having lunch together, walking around together… if he tried really hard to ignore all the other stuff, it really, _really_ felt kind of like a date. But he needed to dismiss thoughts like that; Sora was helping him out of the kindness of his heart, he didn't need to have Riku thinking… inappropriate thoughts about him just because he wanted to see where he slept.

So, with a steadying breath, he set his jaw and concentrated on the issue at hand. Sora's plan was to find something meaningful to Riku which would effectively act as a barrier against the darkness inside him. It had to be something that he held dear, something significant to him. He needed to wrack his brains for what that item might be. Now wasn't exactly the time to get distracted by a cute guy. That could come _afterwards._

When they eventually reached Riku's room, Sora was momentarily distracted by the hole in the wall. With a look of awe, he lightly ran a finger along the broken plaster. Riku winced, muttering, "We are _definitely_ going to get blamed for that."

"This was the Blitzball's doing?" Sora recalled, with some amazement.

"It came straight at my head," Riku grimly confirmed. Sora let out a low whistle, and gave Riku's hand a light press.

"I'd better not let you go, then," he stated, flashing a smile. "I'd hate to get you this far just to lose you to some sporting equipment."

With a weak chuckle, Riku opened the door. Tidus was out, either at classes or Blitz practice, Riku peering around to make sure the room wasn't a total disaster before inviting Sora in. The boy looked at his surroundings with interest, taking note of the slew of posters of professional and semi-professional blitz players on Tidus' side of the room, before jokingly saying, "Well, I think I can guess which is _your_ bed."

Riku weakly chuckled. "So, uh, where do you suggest we start?"

"Well, how about –" Sora moved over towards Riku's bed, tugging him along with him. However, rather than sitting on the bed itself, the boy lowered onto his knees to peer beneath it.

Riku stared down at him. "Um…" Was he – was he looking for porn or something?

"Don't you keep, like, a shoe-box under here or something? Stuff from home?" Sora asked, still somehow managing to cling to Riku's hand even as he swept an arm under the bed in search of Riku's hidden treasures.

"Oh, that. No, not there." He gently tugged Sora back up, helping him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed a little. For a moment, the world seemed to slow down. Sora was gazing up into Riku's face with such an open, sweet expression it made his heart skip a beat. Sora, too, seemed momentarily transfixed. With what seemed like – like tenderness, Sora reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from Riku's eyes.

"You have really pretty colouring," he commented softly. "The silvery hair with the blue-green eyes… I haven't seen that on anybody else."

His voice suddenly hoarse and hard to come by, Riku felt his face heating up. The urge swelled up in him to say – _something_. The right thing, somehow, whatever that was. He needed to say, right now, that he wanted to see Sora again, even after all this was dealt with. And… not just out of gratitude or newfound friendship.

He cleared his throat. "Um… listen, Sora… I was thinking…"

Riku's bad luck, however, was not quite at an end.

Before he could go on, the door banged open, startling the pair out of their tentatively intimate moment. Tidus strode in with a Blitzball under one arm and Wakka behind him, saying loudly, "Yeah, but did you see their _captain?_ I mean –"

He jerked to a halt at the sight of Riku and Sora, his gaze darting between them, face registering first surprise, then, entirely too quickly, sly approval. Apparently too thick-headed to receive the wide-eyed mental pleading that Riku was sending his way, he crowed, "Oh-ho- _ho,_ what do we have _here?"_

Riku realised he and Sora were still clutching one another's hands, and was on the verge of tearing himself free from Sora's grip when, apparently quicker on his feet than Riku in moments like this, Sora swivelled, maintaining his hold on Riku's right hand, and gave a cheery wave. "Hi, there! I'm Sora. I'm Riku's new boyfriend!"

Riku felt his chest _lurch._ His round eyes now swinging around to Sora, he felt his whole body give an electric tingle. _I'm Riku's new boyfriend!_ The words bounced around his skull. Meanwhile, Tidus let out a surprised noise.

"Wha – Riku, you met someone and you didn't _tell_ us? Does Kairi know?"

Riku found his voice, struggling to keep it calm. "Uh, not yet, no. This all happened… kind of fast."

Scratching his head, Tidus belatedly asked, "Uh, does that mean that we're – interrupting something, here?"

"You kind of did, actually," Sora interjected, before Riku could think of a response. He sounded almost like he meant it. Riku blinked over at him, while Tidus gave a sheepish grin and an exaggerated wince.

"Ooh. Sorry about that." He glanced at Riku, eyebrows raised. "So should I… come back _later,_ maybe?"

"G-good idea," Riku replied. "Ah…"

With an understanding nod, Tidus lifted a hand. "Say no more, man. I hear ya, loud and clear. I can crash at Wakka's tonight." Behind him, Wakka nodded agreeably. "But, hey, why don't you guys come over later?" Tidus brightly suggested. "Me and the girls were headed over to Wakka's for drinks tonight, anyway. If nobody even _knows_ about your new guy yet," this sentence held a hint of accusation, like Riku had been keeping secrets from his closest friends, "then why don't you come introduce him?"

"That," Sora broke in, before Riku could answer either way, "sounds like a really great plan. I'd love to meet everyone!"

Riku found himself nodding. "Yeah, sure. We'll… be by later, then."

With that decided, Tidus quickly stuffed some clothes and books into a backpack, before he and Wakka beat a hasty retreat. "Don't lose track of _time,_ now," was Tidus' teasing parting words, before shooting Riku a thumbs-up and shutting the door.

Once again, it was just of the two of them, Riku heaving a great breath of relief. Turning to Sora, he said in a rush, "I am – _so sorry_ about all that, he's usually out a lot more, I wasn't expecting him to just crash in here, and then you had to pretend to be my boyfriend…" He trailed off, Sora shaking his head with an amused look.

"It's okay, Riku – relax. It's not exactly a strain to pretend to be your boyfriend. And anyway, I'd like to meet your friends! If we don't find anything here, we can ask them later on for hints."

"Ohh." So _that_ was why he'd agreed to come along. That made sense.

Whatever moment had passed between them lay forgotten, for now, as Sora's request for Riku's 'shoebox' turned out to be fairly accurate. He pulled it out from the closet, though, under his shoes, rather than keeping it under the bed. Tidus wasn't likely to go digging around his stuff, and so that had seemed like the safest place to keep it.

Sora settled on the bed, patting for Riku to sit across from him and place the shoebox between them. "This would probably be easier if we were back at my parents' place," he admitted, pulling off the lid, "since I have a _lot_ more sentimental crap packed away over there… but this will have to do, I guess."

Together, he and Sora spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through his keepsakes – bottle caps from memorable parties, ticket stubs from movies with friends, a line of photo booth pictures with Kairi; one by one, Sora held onto them, spending several minutes getting a feel for their ability to act as Riku's lucky charm. So far, nothing had fit the bill. After dismissing the strip of pictures of Riku and Kairi making faces at the camera, Sora gazed at it for a long moment, expression turning pensive. "You seem to have a lot of good times with her," he observed. "I can feel a lot of love when I look at you together."

"Um…" Riku felt a moment's awkward anxiety. "She's just a friend. Well, I mean, she's my _best_ friend, but that's… that's all."

When Sora looked up, there was a glimmer of softness in his blue eyes, and a smile to match. "…I know," was all he said, before carefully setting the photo strip aside and reaching for the next item. Riku watched him, swallowing with some difficulty. Spending so much time around Sora today, he was beginning to feel like he couldn't quite catch his breath properly anymore. It was a dizzying sensation, if an oddly pleasant one.

The time passed easily with the two of them cross-legged on Riku's bed. Every now and then, Sora would take breaks to 'recharge' and talk to Riku, who was only too happy to while away the hours getting to know this curious boy from the library. He learned all about Sora: that he was from Radiant Garden, that he had a twin attending a different college closer to home, that sometimes the clairvoyant ability skipped a generation, and that his job at the library was a part-time affair to help pay for some of his day-to-day needs. Riku soaked it all in. Sora, in turn, appeared far more interested in hearing him talk about himself, and together they discovered that they had a lot in common. It was a wonder that they'd both been attending the same college for the last two years, but even though they got along so naturally, they'd been drifting right by each other like ships in the night. It occurred to Riku that the old woman from the mirror store would be royally pissed if she knew that her cursing him had led to one of the best people he'd ever met. Despite everything that had happened to him since that event, he was genuinely happy right now.

Eventually, it was a text from Kairi that roused them from their settled state. Feeling his phone buzz against his thigh, Riku tugged it out, only to wince at the sight of her all-caps message.

 _'YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME? TIDUS SPILLED EVERYTHING. GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE AND BRING HIS, TOO. IT HAD BETTER BE A CUTE ONE. THERE'S FOOD AND BEER XOXO'._

"Uh-oh," he said, catching Sora's attention. "We've been sprung. Kairi knows about the boyfriend thing and wants us over there as soon as possible." Glancing out the window, he saw that dusk was already falling.

Sora stretched his arms over his head and grunted. "I think that's probably best," he sighed. "I'm not really getting anything sufficient from the things you've got here. Sorry," he added regretfully.

Riku blinked at him in astonishment. _"Sorry?_ Sora – you're the only reason I got through today unharmed. Yesterday was a total disaster, and today all I got was soda on me. You don't have _anything_ to apologise for. You've given your entire day to me. I owe you so much."

Looking pleased, if a little bashful, Sora dipped his head and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Well – good. I'm glad that I've been able to be helpful." Extending a hand, he smiled. "We'd better keep holding hands, then – to make sure you keep surviving."

With a quiet laugh, Riku twisted his fingers into Sora's, and together they packed away his things and returned the shoebox to the closet.

The short walk to Wakka's dorm building ten minutes away was fragrant with night blossoms and pricked by emerging stars. The campus lights were coming on bit by bit, as the world lost its colour and became a series of shadows and silhouettes. Being out with Sora, feeling the heat of his palm against his own, Riku felt – pretty euphoric, all things considered. Even though they hadn't managed to find a lucky charm yet, he wasn't in the least bit perturbed because Sora was with him. And Sora, in the dim glow of the campus lights, looked genuinely cheerful. That alone sparked enough light inside Riku to keep the darkness at bay for the next _week._

When they arrived at Wakka's room, Riku sent a glance Sora's way. "You're about to get ambushed," he warned. "You ready?" At Sora's perfectly oblivious nod, he knocked, then cautiously entered, eyes darting for Kairi.

She was already on her feet and marching over.

Riku stood there with a cringing smile in place, while Kairi's was of the razor-sharp variety. "Rikuuuu, you made it! And with your _brand new boyfriend, too."_ She turned to Sora, and the hard set of her lips became something warmer. "It's so lovely to meet you! I'm Kairi, and I'm _just sorry we didn't get to meet sooner."_ This last part was directed once again at Riku, her smile resuming its all-too-toothy appearance.

Sora laughed. "Don't blame Riku – this all kind of happened in a rush. We haven't known each other all that long."

"Well, what matters is that you're here now," Kairi grinned, more easily mollified than Riku had expected, both by Sora's words and probably his overall charm. Excitement bubbling up, she grabbed hold of Sora's free hand, enthusing, "Come on, come over and say hi to everyone!" She tugged him, and he tugged Riku, who stumbled a step. Noticing that Sora seemed reluctant to let Riku go, Kairi smothered a giggle. "You guys are _the cutest,"_ she beamed, and gladly dragged their little human chain over to where the others were sitting.

Wakka, being captain of the HBU Blitzball team and in his final year of college, had the privilege of his own room, which meant that he had the space for a large armchair and a sofa, with a squat coffee table jammed in between. Crammed onto the table was a collection of chip bowls and six-packs of beer. Sora was introduced to the others, Tidus once again wearing a lecherous grin and sending a nod and a wink Riku's way so that he lifted his eyes to the ceiling in embarrassment. Sora hid a smile, and proceeded to do an amazing job at fitting in with Riku's eclectic friends. It was as if he was meant for this, for being part of the group, a missing piece that no one had noticed until just now.

He was also brilliantly adept at fielding questions about his and Riku's sudden 'relationship'.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Selphie excitedly asked, as they sat squeezed together on the couch. With Wakka and Kairi on the other side of them, the crush of having four people on the three-seater meant they were pressed together, thighs and shoulders flush, with Riku trying to maintain his cool and not reveal how much it made his heart quicken.

As Riku stammered, "A-ah…" Sora smoothly broke in.

"I work part-time at the library, and Riku needed help with something." With a glowing smile sideways at him, Sora went on, "We just sort of clicked! I feel like I've known him forever."

If Riku had been having difficulty before, now he just about needed to grip the armrest for support. How… was Sora so cute? And so sunny? And so…

"Aww!" Selphie sounded whimsical, dragging Riku's dazed attention away from the boy. "The way you two look at each other is just _adorable."_

Riku coughed nervously, while Sora merely grinned. The night passed in something of a blur after that, with chips and beer consumed and conversation buzzing, until it occurred to Riku that Sora was looking pink in the face, his eyes slightly glassy. "Are you – drunk?" he murmured into Sora's ear, to which the boy rather tellingly giggled.

"Your breath tickles," he answered, and that was proof enough for Riku.

Raising a hand to catch everyone's attention, he announced, "Um, me and Sora are going to get going. We've had a long day, and should probably get some rest."

They all exchanged laughing, knowing looks, which made Riku want to die a little. "Well, you guys have a nice _rest,_ then," Selphie teased, subtly high-fiving Tidus, who was squashed into the armchair next to her.

Kairi got up to accompany them to the door, giving first Riku, then Sora, a long hug. "You guys have a nice night," she wished them, with a wink, and Riku could tell he was forgiven for keeping secrets, considering what a total catch Sora appeared to be. She was thrilled for him. Looking over at the guy, who had gone a little rubbery from the alcohol, he wondered if he could turn their pretence into something genuine, somehow. Currently, it was just an act as a result of Tidus having walked in on them holding hands… but Riku was beginning to get the feeling that maybe Sora wouldn't be so opposed to the idea of – fantasy blending into reality. Maybe that was wishful thinking on his part, but… the tipsy, ear-to-ear smile Sora sent his way, which sent a burst of heat from his chest all the way to his fingertips and toes, gave him hope.

As they exited into the night air outside Wakka's building, Riku turned to him and asked, "So, where are you living? You're on-campus, right? I'll walk you home."

Sora, however, unsteadily shook his head. "Oh, no, nope, I'm not leaving you alone. I can't lose you now." Riku's breath caught at that. Still shaking his head, Sora gazed up at him, a determined frown on his face. "No, I – I'm going home with _you._ There's no guarantee that a, that a piano won't drop on your head if I leave you now. We're sharing a room, buster. And besides," he added gaily, "Tidus is already staying at Wakka's tonight. We might as well make the most of it!"

 _…Make the most of it?_

Riku's hopes leapt just that little bit higher.

They retraced their earlier steps, the campus lights now forming bright pools in the darkness, Sora's head leaning against Riku's shoulder while Riku tried desperately not to accidentally twitch or – or do anything that might shatter this moment. They trudged upstairs and into Riku's and Tidus' room, Riku flicking on the lights as they stepped inside. Sora let out a happy sigh and drifted over to the bed, plonking down heavily on Riku's blankets.

"That's better," he mumbled. "I need a lie-down."

With an amused shake of the head, Riku suggested, "Well, how about you take my bed, and I'll take Tidus'?"

Sora held his gaze for a stretching, breathless moment. "I don't think," he said at last, "that that's a good idea." As Riku blinked, he softly continued, "If you're over there, I can't help anymore. I need to be… touching you… to hold back the darkness."

Regardless of the fact that Riku had already got through a night's sleep unscathed by his curse… he found himself slowly nodding. "…Yeah. You're – probably right." His skin humming, throat tight, he moved over to where Sora sat, the boy watching his approach beatifically. "So – how should we do this?" Riku quietly asked.

Drawing a faintly shaking breath, Sora stated bluntly, "First, I think we need to take off our shirts." When Riku stared, lips parting slightly, he explained, "We need skin-to-skin contact for me to be able to be effective, and… holding hands won't work if we're sleeping. We might become separated in the night."

Heart thumping, Riku nodded. "Oh. Right. Well…"

Sora lifted his arms, and asked simply, "Help me undress?"

It was all Riku could do not to shudder.

Cautiously, gently, he leaned down and, with Sora's face just inches from his own, the boy's eyes boring into him, took hold of the hem of his hoodie. Swallowing, he lifted it carefully, peeling the red fabric up his torso, lifting it over his head, tugging it down his arms and away. Soon, Sora was in jeans and black t-shirt, staring up at Riku with mussed hair and an unguarded expression. Riku dropped the hoodie at the end of the bed, and Sora once again lifted his arms. Feeling his tenuous grasp on his composure slipping, Riku did the same with his t-shirt, trembling fingers this time grazing skin, passing over ribs, Sora's tanned flesh appearing inch by inch, until at last he was sitting half-naked on Riku's bed.

He saw Sora's throat bob as he, too, gulped a little. Then, the boy murmured, "Your turn."

With a low exhalation, Riku made as little of a production of the process as he could. He yanked his sweater off unceremoniously, then, with Sora's eyes fixated on him all the while, did his best to unbutton the shirt beneath with unsteady hands. As his stomach and chest became exposed, he could hear Sora's breaths deepen. When he finally worked up the courage to look at the boy, he saw a light blush sweeping Sora's cheeks, and a glisten on his lips, as if he'd recently licked them. Riku quickly shrugged his shirt off and dropped it to the floor, not knowing, anymore, where to look.

A stillness fell over the room, as neither of them moved for a moment. It was Sora who eventually broke it, shifting back to lever off his shoes with each foot, before scooting towards the wall and pushing back the blankets to lie down. With a coy smile, he patted the empty space beside him. Setting his head onto the pillow, he watched Riku slowly bend and pull his shoes off, before sliding in next to the boy. He couldn't fit on his back, the bed was too small; so instead, he found himself on his side, nearly nose to nose with Sora, whose smile slowly grew.

"Hey," the boy said, to which Riku gave his own husky, "Hey."

Sora studied him from up close, eyes roaming over Riku's features, the smile fading slightly. "It's been a long day, huh?"

Riku nodded minutely, his hair shifting under his head. "You must be tired," he said. "You've been running around after me all day. You've done… so much. I don't think I can ever thank you properly."

Sora traced a finger along Riku's jaw, making his eyelids flutter. "Well, I haven't saved you yet," he reminded him. Then, with a cheeky glint in his eye, he asked, "Did you ever think that maybe… this is one of those curses that goes away when you get kissed?"

Riku couldn't help but give a crooked grin. "…Like you're the prince, and I'm the sleeping princess?"

The finger moving to the bridge of his nose, Sora whispered, "Wanna test it out?"

Riku could hardly breathe. Needing no further prompting, he inched closer on the pillow, eyes falling shut as their lips brushed. Sora's hand flattened gently on the side of his face, mouth moving softly against his, chaste little kisses that took Riku to heaven. He realised that he was smiling, so widely that it ached, Sora giggling softly at the sight. Drawing back an inch, the boy regarded him tenderly, brushing away a lock of hair. An element of sobriety entering his tone, he said, "I've been waiting for this for so long…"

Before Riku had a chance to think this through, or try to muster up a response, Sora's lips were back on his own – only this time, the chasteness melted swiftly away, replaced by heartfelt need. Riku responded instantly. The moment their tongues touched for the first time, he felt the day's mounting desires rise and crash through his body, his hands moving to Sora's waist and tightening. The boy gasped lightly and shifted closer, wrapping an arm under Riku's shoulder and curling it around. Riku kissed him deeply, palms dragging across his bare hips, caressing them before tugging his lower body close by the loops on his jeans. Sora grunted as their hips connected, breaking away to take a gulp of fresh air.

"Everything okay?" Riku managed to utter. Sora answered by taking hold of his face and returning to his lips, while pulling Riku on top of him. From there everything became a blur of bodies gently rocking, hoarse voices occasionally finding the air, and mouths that could scarcely bear to be apart. Riku felt himself drowning in Sora, and had wanted nothing more in his entire life. Pleasure spiked through him, along with the continuous, searing need to hold the boy as close as possible, perhaps never let him go – just spend the rest of whatever life he had like this, and let the darkness eat away at him until he was gone.

He didn't need a lucky charm. He just needed this until he died.

.o.O.o.

Morning surprised Riku, who hadn't noticed himself falling asleep. He woke up groggy, half twisted in the blankets, which were tangled around his jeans-clad legs. When he looked sideways, he found Sora still fast asleep, curled into him, expressionless for once but still somehow so innocent-looking. At the sight, Riku felt an attack of tenderness that almost hurt, his heart seeming two sizes too large for his chest. He inhaled deeply, the scent of Sora's hair filling him, and slowly exhaled again.

Evidently slumbering only lightly, the exaggerated rise and fall of Riku's chest was enough to stir Sora, big blue eyes blinking sleepily to life. Recognition of Riku appeared to hit him all at once, and, for a moment, Sora went… very still. Riku felt his stomach clutch with sudden alarm as it occurred to him that Sora may have only climbed into his bed because he'd been intoxicated. He hadn't seemed all that drunk at the time, but what if Riku had been wrong about that? Oh, _shit._

Gradually, the look on Sora's face became one of awe, however, some of Riku's panic replaced instead by a faint sense of bemusement. Sora stared at him, utterly silent, for an entire minute. Then, at long last, he picked a hand off of Riku's chest to timidly touch his cheek. "This is real, right?" His voice was hoarse from sleep, and… something more. He seemed almost disbelieving to see himself with a bedfellow. He cemented this opinion when he pinched Riku's nose between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

 _"Ah!_ Sora!"

Sora gasped and quickly released him. "You're real!" Before Riku could say anything, he was engulfed by Sora, who threw his arms around him and hugged him almost frantically, as if to let him get too far away would be to see him dissolve into the ether.

"S-Sora?" Riku patted his head, then dragged his fingers through the boy's hair, massaging his scalp lightly. Pulling back gently, he angled Sora's face back a little, so their eyes could meet. "What's… all this?" he asked, mystified. "Are you still drunk?" He was startled to see Sora's face contract with emotion. With concern, he demanded, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"You're _here,"_ Sora said, voice quavering, and again buried his face into Riku's chest. This time, the mystified Riku just waited, holding him securely and hoping that sooner or later Sora would provide an explanation.

It took a little while, but eventually, the boy emerged again, Riku stunned to see that he'd been crying a little, despite the fact that he was now all smiles, so dazzlingly bright it was a wonder they didn't burn Riku up.

"You don't need to worry about the darkness anymore, Riku. It won't bother you again."

It took him a moment to reply, both because the look on Sora's face and the completely unexpected nature of his words. "Wh-what? Why? It won't?"

Sora giggled at his confusion, brushing a hand through Riku's messy hair. "Everything is going to be all right. Since the moment you came to me, you fixed it. All by yourself. You don't need a lucky charm."

"I don't?" Peering at Sora searchingly, he helplessly offered, "I don't understand."

Drawing a breath, closing his eyes, Sora took a few seconds to collect himself. When he opened his eyes again, they were the warmest, fondest eyes that Riku had ever seen in his life. "I have a little confession to make, and I hope it won't anger you, or – or weird you out." He steeled himself a little, as if expecting Riku to react less than pleasantly. "I've been… dreaming of you for most of my life." When Riku simply stared, uncomprehending, he elaborated, almost reluctantly, "They started when I was a kid. I've been having the dreams for nearly twelve years, and you were always there… always _here,_ at HBU. That's why I came here. I was sure I would find you, or… you would find me." Withdrawing a little to get a good look at Riku's expression, he asked tentatively, "Have I… freaked you out yet?"

Riku blinked. "I – I don't know. I don't think so. I don't… understand." What was Sora _saying,_ exactly? _Dreaming_ of him? For _twelve years?_ "Is this because of your – psychic thing?" Apprehensively, Sora nodded. Riku considered this as best he could, what with it being a lot to take in first thing in the morning. "And that means that… when you saw me at the library…"

"I realised it was you right away," Sora whispered, hiding his face behind his hands, watching Riku through the gaps in his fingers. "I'm sorry for being dishonest. There was no way I could just come out with it, though. Not then. Not yet. I had to wait."

"For what?" Riku blankly asked.

Sora tremulously smiled. "For _this._ For you to – want me. And like me. And want to be with me." Doubt touched his features after these words had left his mouth, hands lowering. "Um – uh – do you?"

Riku thought about it. He was having trouble believing it, but – at the same time, this was _Sora._ Psychic Sora. It was highly unlikely that he was making it up, or was out of his mind. For a second, Riku felt like maybe _he_ was; but when he looked at Sora, waiting so nervously for his answer… Well, whatever had been behind their meeting, he couldn't deny this much: "…Yeah. I do."

Once again, Sora's smile was fit to light the world, his relief palpable. "I'm – I'm so sorry I kept it from you. But I am – _so happy_ to hear you say that. I've been waiting for you for… so long. That's not creepy, is it?" he wondered out loud, sounding worried.

Riku laughed slightly, still completely baffled, but ready to roll with the punches. "It's weird," he admitted, "but – _I_ don't think it's creepy."

"When I realised what a nice guy you are, I could hardly believe it," Sora told him, an echo of that happiness radiating from him. "And when I saw the darkness in you, I realised why it was we had to meet." Rising onto one elbow, he placed a hand on Riku's chest, above his heart, and said, "This. Right here. This is why you don't need a lucky charm."

Glancing down at his hand, Riku returned his gaze to Sora's with his unspoken question.

"I'm in your heart, now," the boy softly told him. "And as long as I'm there, you'll be safe. You don't even have to worry about… liking me for long… because now that I've touched your heart, the darkness can't hurt you." Sheepishly, he added, "Another confession: we didn't… strictly _need_ to be holding hands that whole time. I just… I just enjoyed holding your hand."

Riku's eyebrows shot up, followed by a startled laugh that was loud in the hush. "Seriously?" As the boy ruefully nodded, Riku shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. "Unbelievable. You're lucky that I enjoyed it, too." At the boy's pleased expression, he caught Sora's face in his hand, rubbing his thumb against his cheek. "And… I don't think you need to worry about me stopping liking you," he added, almost too quiet to hear. "I might not have been dreaming about you, and I might not be psychic… but even I can feel it when a missing piece of the puzzle slots into place. I guess that maybe was waiting for you, too – I just didn't know it until we met."

Sora apparently couldn't handle it anymore. His lips met Riku's in a crash that was almost painful, the pair of them needing to take a moment to find the right rhythm… and, at last, each felt the utter rightness of having found a piece of himself in the other.

.o.O.o.

 _Seven Years Later_

The party had been in full swing for several hours now. It was small, but energetic, fun, and the drinks were flowing.

Riku wore a pointed party hat, which Kairi had forced onto his head, the elastic snug under his jaw, and insisted he keep it there. "It's your _special day,"_ she had yelled, already a little over the edge with booze, before tottering off to find something to eat. Sora was beside him the whole night, his smile joyful, their hands clasped tight. The party had a dual purpose: first, it was their seven-year anniversary; second, it was the end of an era.

At midnight, Sora called for quiet, Tidus, Selphie and Yuffie the hardest ones to shut up before he could finally take a moment to place his hands on Riku's shoulders. He closed his eyes with everyone crowded around, waiting with bated breath as he took a few slow breaths and concentrated.

Once a year, every year, Sora did this, and once a year, every year, he reported the state of the darkness in Riku. It had been reluctant to shift at first, but the last couple of years Sora had sworn he felt it weakening.

Tonight was special, though. Tonight was theoretically the last time he would ever have to do it, even though they both knew he would continue to check as long as they lived, just to make sure.

After a minute, Sora gradually started nodding. When he opened his eyes, Riku spied a few tears on his lashes. Beaming, Sora announced, "It's gone."

The cheers were deafening, Sora and Riku's little house practically lifting from its foundations. They'd be lucky if the neighbours didn't complain. Still, even Riku couldn't help it: to the sky, he bellowed, _"Thanks for the curse, you corpse-mirror-inhabiting old witch!"_

He meant it, with every fibre of his being. He was grateful to her; she had handed him the greatest years of his life.

And the best part was that those first seven years were just the beginning.


	5. Awkward(sauce)

Prompt: awkward (sauce can be tacked on after it for added effect, it's cool).  
Main pairing: AkuRoku  
Rating: M  
Word count: 8.040  
AO3 collection: /collections/AkuRokuRiSo_Month  
Prompted By: mentalscribble (tumblr)

.o.O.o.

Sora placed himself in front of Roxas, arms thrust wide, and demanded, "How do I look?"

Roxas gave him a half-hearted once-over and nodded. "Passable," he offered, to which Sora pouted.

Adjusting his pale blue tie, he whirled and complained, "Riku, Roxas is denying my sexiness. I demand adulation." With a soft laugh, his boyfriend, leaning against the kitchen counter in a white suit, pushed upright and came over to grant Sora's request.

"Of course you look sexy," Riku told him, brushing his fingers from his tie and fixing it, "also charming, and dapper, and perfect. However, if you don't stop messing with your tie, it's going to be crooked all night." He finished up with a small kiss on the tip of Sora's nose, while Roxas folded his arms, huffed, and rolled his eyes away from the saccharine scene.

"You over-indulge my brother, Riku."

"Riku indulges me just the right amount," Sora countered, slipping under his boyfriend's arm and resting against his shoulder. "You're just grumpy tonight because you don't want to run into that weird kid who followed you around throughout the _entirety_ of high school."

Roxas made a face, refusing to dignify that accusation with a reply. Tonight was the five-year reunion at Radiant Garden high, the first reunion since graduation, and Sora was typically pumped. And it wasn't like Roxas _wasn't –_ he was looking forward to catching up with some people he'd lost touch with over the years, what with college having flung everyone all over the place. But… well, there might have been some truth to Sora's claim.

"Oh, you mean that skinny redhead, right?" Riku dimly recalled. "Huh. I can't remember his name."

"Axel," Sora supplied, Roxas sighing irritably.

"Okay, that's enough. When's Kairi arriving?"

Taking pity on him, Riku did his best to divert Sora's attention by gently taking his wrist and holding it up to peer at his watch. "Any minute now," he announced.

"Get the corsage from the fridge," Sora urged Roxas. "She's _your_ date."

"Can you _please_ stop calling her that?" Roxas winced. "It's like thinking of taking _you_ as a date." He nevertheless did as suggested and went and got the flower from the refrigerator, shaking it a little in the box to get a good look at it. "Oh, well," he sighed, "better than going desperate and dateless."

The only thing he wasn't so fond of about this whole reunion deal – besides the prospect of running into Axel – was the weird _pressure_ of the event, like there was some contest between everyone to not be the biggest loser out of the graduating class. Roxas didn't consider himself a contender for that crown, but even so, neither he nor Kairi had wanted to be standing around on their own in case everyone else was married with kids already. They were each other's backup, with a pinkie-sworn promise that if the other saw someone hot and single, they were allowed to ditch.

Sure enough, true to Riku's prediction, the doorbell rang a minute later, Roxas going, at Sora's obnoxious insistence, to open the door for her. She looked delightful, as usual, abuzz with excitement for the night ahead. She accepted the wrist corsage with exaggerated hand-flapping and a dramatic show of coquettishness.

"Watch out, next it'll be diamond rings and trips to Paris," Sora teased with a wicked smile, nudging Roxas in the ribs, at which point Kairi reached over and yanked his tie loose in a single motion as punishment.

While Sora whined and got Riku to fix him back up, Roxas bowed and offered her his arm. "M'lady?"

"Charmed, I'm sure," Kairi breathlessly replied, eyelashes aflutter, and together they strutted out of the house to the waiting car. The trip to Radiant High was filled with high-volume chatter, Riku their designated driver for the night, guiding the car smoothly along the forty minute trip to their old school.

Finding a parking spot, the four of them took a moment to set themselves up, Riku and Sora holding hands, looking pretty much exactly as they had when they'd graduated, while Roxas and Kairi strolled arm in arm. Kairi's heels clicked, the guys' shoes scuffing every now and then, as they made their way up to the front stairs and into the brightly lit main hall of the school. Greeters directed them down towards the auditorium, which had been decorated to look like senior prom, as if the night wasn't going to be nostalgic enough already.

Once there, amongst the swarm of people and with a drink in hand, Roxas felt himself loosening up almost immediately. The music was good, and the people he encountered were excited and happy to be there. Some of them had come in from out of town, or out of state even, in order to catch up with their old friends. Roxas spotted Hayner, Olette and Pence twenty minutes in and practically dragged Kairi in his haste to get over to them.

When they spied him, their faces lit up, Olette letting out a joyful squeal and throwing herself at him for a hug, with Hayner and Pence not far behind her. Kairi hugged them next, and for the next hour they swapped college stories and reminiscences from their school days. Before he knew it, despite his initial misgivings, Roxas found himself having a fantastic time.

Eventually, Sora and Riku came over, and after they'd done the pleased hellos with Roxas' old friends, Sora inevitably observed, "It's good to see you in a better mood!" Turning to the others, he loudly explained, "Roxas wasn't super eager to come tonight in case he encountered that guy who used to follow him around all through high school."

Seeing recognition dawn on the faces of his friends, Roxas dropped his head into his hand. "Sora," he grated, "do you have to bring it up _all_ the time?"

"Of course," he mischievously replied, "I'm your brother, aren't I? You remember the guy, right?" he asked the others.

"Yeah," Hayner nodded. "He was that scrawny guy, right?"

"With the red hair," Pence added.

Olette giggled a little. "Oh, he had _such_ a crush on you! It was sweet!"

"Sweet?" Hayner incredulously echoed. "He was Roxas' _stalker._ Remember that time we caught him peeking at him in the locker room?"

"Or the time he took Roxas' favourite pencil and kept it," Pence recalled.

"He even knew where we lived," Sora told them, "and used to cycle past our house _all the time._ He had it was definitely completely in love with you."

"Come on, guys," Roxas weakly said, trying to cut them off, "he was just a kid. We're all adults now. No point in dwelling on the embarrassing stuff."

"But isn't he the reason you didn't want to come tonight?" Sora asked, once again at full volume, and it was then, as he swung his head around to look at Roxas, that his expression seemed to freeze in place. The fleeting look of horror was enough to tell Roxas exactly what – or who – he'd seen, and it was like a man marching to his death that Roxas slowly turned his head to follow his line of sight.

Aw, _shit._

Wearing a wooden smile – like maybe he had been there _the entire time –_ stood Axel. Roxas then blinked, because… while it was undeniably Axel, Axel had _changed._ Where once he had been weedy and a little on the short side, he had evidently sprouted while at college, grown quite _tall,_ and filled out nicely at the same time. His hair, which had seemed gaudy and spindly at school, always bunched back into a scruffy ponytail, now looked sleek and fashionable, worn in loose spikes. Unlike many of the men at the event, Axel had foregone a tie and simply had the top couple of buttons of his black shirt open, which he wore over black pants, with a black jacket to finish off. The unbroken colour scheme of his clothes, with the bright red of his hair, and the blazing green of his eyes that Roxas never remembered from the past as being quite this captivating, made him an eye-catching figure. Many gazes flicked to him as people milled about, but most of them probably didn't even remember who he was. Axel had been entirely too obsessed with following Roxas around during high school to have made many friends at the same time.

After clearing his throat slightly, now that he had been noticed, Axel pleasantly said, "Good evening, guys. How's it going? I saw you over here and thought I'd come say 'hi'." The whole group seemed to wince as one, suddenly realising what assholes they must have sounded like.

"Axel! Hi! Is that really you? I hardly recognised you!" Olette was the first one brave enough to speak up, and managed to set the precedent, the others following suit and greeting the man. One by one, Axel smiled at them, until he reached Roxas. His gaze flickered briefly down to Kairi's hand on his arm, and when they rose back up, there was the slightest hint of coolness there.

"Roxas, it's great to see you again," he said, voice cheerily at odds with his eyes. "And – Kairi, right? You were with Roxas' brother and his boyfriend a lot, if I remember correctly?"

"That's me!" Kairi brightly confirmed. "What have you been doing with yourself the past five years, Axel?"

"College," the man answered, with a suave, flirtatious grin, Kairi's face turning the slightest bit pink. "I got into architecture at Traverse U, studied my ass off, and then came back to town to take an internship at the Restoration Committee. We restore the old buildings from Hollow Bastion, some truly beautiful architecture in that old district that are going to be subdivided and turned into premium apartments. We're turning that whole area into the new chic place to be. After my internship, they offered me a job, and I'm on track to becoming a junior partner."

Everyone made impressed noises, Roxas blinking and murmuring, "Wow."

Tilting his head, squinting one eye, Axel went on to Kairi, "You know, don't take this the wrong way, but you remind me a lot of someone else I know – my girlfriend." He winked charmingly. "Same pretty eyes." To Roxas, he joked, "I guess we have the same taste in women." Before Roxas could correct him, the man suddenly said, "Ah, and here she is! Naminé, sweetie, come meet some people."

Roxas turned his head a little, and with… something like disappointment, saw that the girl who approached Axel with a drink in each hand was a demure, extremely pretty blonde in a simple, white, knee-length dress, as if summer followed her around. Her nose gave a cute wrinkle as she smiled at Axel, stepping into his embrace as she passed him a drink. Turning to everyone, he gestured to her, announcing, "This is Naminé, guys. Nami and I met at college. We've been together ever since."

"Hi," she softly greeted, with a shy little wave. "It's nice to meet you all."

Roxas noticed with a strange stab of dismay that she really did have pretty eyes.

"Naminé's a professional artist," Axel volunteered, making her blush. "She's part of a gallery presentation that's happening later in the year."

"Wow!"

"That's amazing, Naminé!"

"How long have you been an artist?"

As the others grilled the girl, Roxas took the opportunity to edge a little closer to Axel. Noticing his proximity immediately, Axel's gaze dimmed a little, his body pulling slightly back. "Um," Roxas quietly said, "I'm sorry about before. Nobody was saying anything bad about you, we were just…"

"Forget it, Roxas," Axel dismissed with a swift, toothy grin. "It's not like it was all wrong. I followed you like a puppy during high school, and came off as a total stalker." He shrugged easily. "It was just one of those, uh, what do they call them? 'Bro crushes'. I admired you, and I guess I wanted to be your friend, or be like you, or something. So in my _typically_ teenage awkwardness, I instead went and did all the wrong things and made you think I was weird." He laughed a little at this, Roxas giving an uncertain smile.

"Oh. Okay. Well – you seem like you're doing a lot better now. Over that teenage awkwardness, huh?"

Axel tightened his grip slightly on his girlfriend and nodded. "Yeah – just a bit."

At the squeeze, Naminé broke away from her conversation with the others, seeming relieved to be able to talk about someone other than herself. "So, you're Roxas, then?" she asked. Smiling, Roxas nodded.

"Nice to meet you. I'm glad that Axel found someone like you. It must be cool to have such an artistic girlfriend." His insides felt a little – weird. He felt kind of down, all of a sudden, and couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Maybe it was just insecurity, seeing someone who had been so low on the social food chain in high school doing so well for himself these five years later. Roxas supposed he must be petty like that.

"I've heard things about you," she told him, at which Axel gave her another quick squeeze and a slightly nervous laugh.

"Oh, well, yeah – Roxas and I were just talking about my admiration for him in high school came out in all the wrong ways. It's good to be over that period of my life. Things are _much_ better now. It's amazing how all-encompassing high school seems until you actually, you know, get out there and on your own and meet the right people for you." To Kairi, he prompted, "Right? You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Kairi? You spent all that time around Riku and Sora, but I bet it wasn't until you got out into the big, wide world that you realised that what you _really_ wanted was sort of in front of you all along." He flashed Roxas a quick grin. "I think we can both give ourselves a pat on the back for the ladies we've got with us tonight."

"Um, yeah," Roxas numbly said, and, when Kairi seemed about to correct him about their relationship, he gave her a short, sharp nudge with his heel, cutting her off. "Anyway – drinks? Anybody?"

He escaped as swiftly as possible, heading for the refreshments table. There were cups of cheap champagne set up across a long table, along with various soda and juices, a volunteer keeping them coming as fast as they vanished. He took a minute, now that he was away from the group, to pull himself together. The pressure of being around Axel was suffocating, somehow. He was just – he'd become so charming, and so successful, and his girlfriend was so gifted, and… and what? Why was that all so hard for Roxas to handle?

As he was struggling to gather a cup of juice and three champagnes into his hands, a voice at his shoulder nearly made him spill the whole lot.

"Hey. Need any help with those?"

Head swinging to stare wide-eyed at Axel, who stood with a hip cocked and an unreadable expression on his face, Roxas breathlessly stammered, "Oh, um…" He twisted, to show the man that he had managed to pinch two cups in the fingers of each hand. "I've got it covered. Thanks."

Axel regarded him impassively for a moment, standing close enough that Roxas didn't feel able to get past without knocking into him. "You know," Axel said, voice curiously toneless, "you could have just _said_ you weren't with Kairi. Sora told me the truth. You didn't have to pretend to be taken just so, what, I wouldn't bother you?"

Roxas felt his stomach drop. _Damn it, Sora! You couldn't keep your mouth shut for five minutes?_

Uncomfortably, he attempted to explain himself. "That's not what it was. It just sort of… happened. You made that assumption, and –"

"And you thought it would just be easier that way? Jesus." With a low huff, Axel gave his head a disbelieving shake. "I must have _really_ left a bad impression of you; you think I'm some kind of _creep,_ don't you?"

Roxas flinched. "No – Axel, that's not…"

"You made me look like an idiot in front of your brother and all your friends," Axel stated, sounding hurt now, as well as pissed off. "I know you were having a little laugh about the old me, but I didn't think you'd keep it up with the new me, as well. Believe it or not, I didn't come here to be humiliated." Sighing shortly, he rubbed an agitated hand through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have come tonight. I thought I had a chance to change those old opinions of me… maybe even _your_ opinion of me… but in the end, I'm still that awkward, jerk teen who everyone laughs at." Shaking his head slightly, he said, "Forget it. I'm just gonna… get Naminé and go. You don't have to worry about me bothering you again, Roxas."

 _"No,_ Axel, _wait…!"_ Before the guy could go storming off, Roxas abandoned the cups on the table and lunged, seizing his sleeve, halting him mid-stride. Several people around them were turning to stare with a mixture of curiosity and nosiness, one of the things that Roxas definitely did _not_ miss about high school.

Sullenly, Axel demanded, "What?"

Anxious for a chance to explain himself, he begged, "Can we just – go somewhere a little more private and clear this up? Please?" When Axel scowled, he tried again, putting every ounce of sincerity into his face and voice, to eliminate any suspicion that he might be teasing. _"Please,_ Axel."

For a moment, it looked like Axel was going to shake him off and keep going… but that moment stretched, and as it did, Roxas saw him start to waver. Eventually, sounding impatient, he conceded, _"Fine._ All right. Let's go find somewhere away from the music and noise." Digging his hands into his pockets, he allowed Roxas to lead the way, following a few steps behind.

Roxas wormed his way through the reunion crowd, glancing back occasionally to make sure Axel was still following, until they were standing in the hallway outside the auditorium. To the right, down by the entrance, he could see cigarette smoke drifting by the doorway, so instead he turned to the left and led Axel a little deeper into the school, away from the hubbub of the party.

At last, when they had rounded a corner and the music was just a dim pulse in the distance, he turned to Axel, anxious to set things right. "Okay – _so…_ About Kairi. She _is_ my date tonight, but we're not together. We're just each other's arm candy for this stupid reunion."

Flatly, Axel asked, "Why lie about it?"

"I wasn't lying!" Roxas objected, before clicking his tongue at the scepticism on Axel's face. "Not exactly," he clarified, "and – not deliberately, I just… I was _going_ to tell you, but before I could say anything you brought Naminé over and were showing her off, and then you kept saying about how _lucky_ we both were to have such great girlfriends and I… I felt like…" He grasped for words, before eventually admitting the truth: "I guess I just didn't want to embarrass myself."

"…Oh." Axel frowned at this, seeming to hesitate at the thought of Roxas being embarrassed by the situation. After a moment, however, his eyes narrowed. "But – what about what Sora said, before you guys knew I was standing there? He told everyone that you specifically didn't want to come tonight because… because you might meet me."

Roxas sighed. _Once again: Sora and his big mouth._ Nothing for it but to come clean. He was acutely aware that anything less would send Axel away, and he simply didn't have the energy or desire to keep spinning lies.

"Actually, that's pretty much true." When Axel visibly wilted, he hastily went on, "But it's not what you think. I felt guilty. Back in high school, you were obviously so… uh, 'admiring' of me, I guess was the word you used, and I… treated you like you didn't exist. " He shrugged, a little helplessly, knowing all too well that it was far too late to change things now. "I knew you were there, but I just ignored you. And the thought of seeing you again tonight made me realise what a jerk I'd been."

As Axel stared, Roxas grimaced, glancing away, shoulders hunching.

"I guess I didn't want to feel bad, which once again just… makes me the jerk." He pinched the bridge of his nose, brow creasing. "And then you suddenly appeared and heard the others talking about you, but you're so friendly, and you're doing so well, and you've got such a cute girlfriend, and…" He was quiet for a moment. "I guess, in that case, I am glad I came," he said eventually, "because I got to see that it's not all about me. While I was still being a jerk, you've already gone and made a life for yourself that had nothing to do with me, or high school, or…" Again, he trailed off, before mustering his courage and looking Axel directly in the eyes, hands dug into his pockets. "I guess what I want to say is, you might have been an awkward teen, but… you've become a really great man." He smiled, trying to keep it upbeat rather than tinged with the regret he suddenly felt. "You deserve happiness, Axel, and I hope you and Naminé find it together."

Axel's expression had been becoming increasingly complex, the longer Roxas spoke. Strangely, of all the brief emotions and reactions that flitted across the man's face, the strongest one right now was uneasiness. A silence stretched between them, into which Roxas eventually prodded, "Axel?"

At the sound of his name, Axel shifted apprehensively from one foot to the other. After just a moment longer of staying mute, he jerkily said, "Listen, Roxas… about that…" He looked, for a moment, like he couldn't quite believe what he was about to say. The words seemed to drag from him. "I… might have lied."

Roxas blinked. "Might have lied? About what?"

Axel hissed a breath through his teeth. "…Naminé is my – arm candy. We're not together. We're friends, we took a couple art classes together in college."

"Wait. _What?"_

In the face of Roxas' blank shock, Axel tossed his hands into the air, exclaiming, "I needed her here! I wasn't going to just turn up on my own, that sad, weird kid from high school who can't even get a date to the reunion. And what if you _had_ been with Kairi? Or someone else? It was either come with Naminé, or not come at all, and I had to come. I had to… see you again."

Evidently feeling the strain of his confession, he started growing agitated, pacing shortly up and down the corridor in front of Roxas.

"And you know, you're right: the reason I had to see you was because I wanted to show you that it's _not_ all about you, that I made something of myself and _you_ didn't notice the potential I had back in high school." He stabbed a finger at Roxas with this, halting his restless movements and turning to face the blond. "I wanted to – to rub it in your face. But then, you turn up here, and I overhear you telling your friends _not_ to talk shit about me, and it turns out you're _sorry_ about how you ignored me, and…" He ran out of words, an oversized bundle of pent-up frustration. Then, sharply, he sighed, and all at once the tension leaked out of him. Arms folding, he slumped against the wall beside Roxas. "The stupid thing is, by trying so hard to become someone who could show you how little you matter, I was still elevating you above everyone else. For five whole years, _that's_ the dream I pursued." He grimaced, voice heavy. "I don't think I'll ever stop being that kid you looked straight through. Ridiculous, huh?"

His shame piercing, Roxas started to say, "Axel, I'm sor-"

"Ah, don't apologise," the man gruffly interrupted, with a flick of his hand. "Leave me what little dignity I have left." Looking back the way they'd come, he dejectedly said, "I don't know. I think I'll just have a cigarette and leave. I've made enough of a fool of myself for one night."

Alarmed, Roxas argued, "No, don't do that! Don't just go. I don't want to ruin your evening." Eager to appease him, he suggested, "Why don't we head back in and you can see who else is around?"

"You're the only one I wanted to see," Axel bluntly replied. "Now that this is over, I just want to go home." In a muttered aside, he added, "Drink myself blind for a while, maybe."

As he pushed away from the wall, turning his back on Roxas to start heading for the exit, the blond experienced a moment's panic. _If Axel leaves now, you'll never see him again._ That little voice inside him was quiet but true – Roxas felt it down to his bones. If he let Axel walk away, if the man disappeared from his sight like this, there would be no going back.

And all of a sudden, that was something he couldn't bear to have happen.

"Axel, hold on!" The words spilled out of him urgently, the man pausing and glancing back with a curious frown. With a smile that was only slightly desperate, Roxas proposed, "Why don't we compromise? If you don't want to go back to the party, how about we grab some drinks and go somewhere by ourselves? Spend some time catching up?"

Axel's eyes flared slightly, before blinking his surprise. Turning slowly towards Roxas, he asked doubtfully, "Are you sure? You actually – want to?"

"Of course!" Relief flooded through him as he recognised the man capitulating. "I never stopped to get to know you properly in high school. I want to now. If that's all right," he added, the idea occurring to him that maybe that ship had long ago sailed, and he was just lucky that Axel had deigned to talk to him at all.

But the cautious smile that was currently spreading across Axel's face suggested otherwise. "Well – yeah. Okay. Absolutely. I'd like that a lot."

Roxas brightened. "Okay! Good! Cool!" He crossed the couple of feet that Axel had distanced between them, and, with hesitant smiles, they walked together back towards the auditorium.

As they returned to the noise and milling bodies, some people dancing to the music, others standing about in clusters conversing loudly, Roxas and Axel slipped through whatever cracks they could find on their way to the refreshments table. Roxas kept a careful eye out for Sora and everyone; he wanted to avoid running into them, if possible. Maybe it wasn't fair of him to just vanish from view like this, but considering how obnoxious Sora had been so far, he was sure that if he and Axel were spotted hanging out together, there would be comments made and jokes cracked, and he wasn't in the mood for that right now. He wanted to just… spend time with Axel. Without either of them having to feel self-conscious about it because of the distant past.

As they stood before the drinks, Roxas glanced over at Axel. "Wanna get drunk? Or, you know, as drunk as this watered-down swill will allow?"

The guy sent him a grin that looked almost relieved. "Sure. Let's get hammered."

They managed to carry, with great difficulty, six cups each, three per hand, while assuring the nearest volunteer that they were taking them to their group. Then, when they were sure they were out of sight of anyone on duty, they snuck out like a couple of kids, hurrying along with their cheap-ass champagne.

As they walked quickly along the hallway, heading deeper into the school, Axel snorted, "Did you _see_ those decorations? Somehow, I didn't feel particularly 'Under the Sea'."

Roxas laughed. "Were you at senior prom? It was even more obnoxious back then. The planning committee must be losing their touch."

Axel glanced over at him. "…Actually, I didn't go," he casually mentioned, at which point Roxas cringed inside, feeling like the mother of all dicks.

"Oh… Right."

"Oh, no, you don't understand." Axel turned to him solemnly, eyes deliberately wide. "I was doing everyone a _kindness._ Nobody on this planet has seen me dance – and that's how I plan to keep it. I took one for the _team."_ Musingly, he said, "Now that I think on it, there's a chance I saved senior prom."

Roxas chuckled, Axel relaxing a little. They went in search of an unlocked classroom, with Roxas realising at the last moment that neither of them had a hand free for testing handles. Thus, with Axel watching on in some amazement, he got a head-start on the drinking and chugged down one hand's worth of champagne. Licking his lips, he stacked the cups neatly together on the floor, then let out an enormous belch as the bubbles caught up with him.

"Well, look what _someone_ learned at college," Axel jokingly commented.

"Fifth in my class," Roxas grinned, and, now with a free hand, began rattling door handles as they made their way down the passageway. With the couple of drinks he'd already had, he was pretty sure those last three were going to pack a punch when they sank in, and was keen to have somewhere to sit down when that happened.

At last, after several fruitless tries, one of the doors gave way. They quickly piled in before anyone could come along and catch them at it, and when Roxas closed it again, they were plunged into near-darkness. What little light there was in the room came through the rippled window on the door, with a tint of moonlight illuminating the desks and chairs from the bank of windows on the other side of the room. With their bodies temporarily reduced to shadows in the gloom, they found opposing desks to sit on, legs dangling down, a little distance away from the door so they wouldn't be immediately visible if someone were to open it.

"So – how _was_ senior prom?" Axel asked, from the safety of the darkness, his expression shrouded from view.

Roxas willed his eyes to adjust faster, so he could read the man better. "It was okay," he admitted. "It wasn't _completely_ uncool. I went with Xion, the girl from my English class. Just as friends," he clarified, before Axel could draw any wrong conclusions. "There was nothing between us. She wasn't, uh, my type. I guess I was gay back then, but none of the guys I knew did anything for me. I never felt anything like you see with Riku and Sora."

Axel gave a low laugh. "Those two? I'd be surprised if you did. They're soul-mates. You can see it the second they look at each other. If you had someone you looked at like that back then, maybe I wouldn't have –" He cut himself off abruptly, a slip of the tongue which was too late to take back. Roxas heard him give a regretful hiss.

"It's okay," he gently said. "I already kinda figured it wasn't just 'admiration'."

Axel was silent. Then, after an awkward pause, he asked, "So that changed at college?"

Roxas, feeling his mouth growing dry, took a swig of champagne from one of the three cups set up beside him on the desk. "Mm. I experimented more, I guess. Still never found myself head-over-heels or anything. Liked a few guys, but never got serious."

"Never?"

Roxas shrugged, Axel's face gradually becoming easier to make out in the gloom. There was a curiously rigid set to his features that made Roxas' insides give a slight twist. "Not really," he mumbled into his drink. After another mouthful, he asked, "What about you?"

"Ehh." With a shrug, Axel grabbed a drink of his own and started sipping. "I went a little crazy, you could probably say. I had – fun."

"Fun!" Roxas echoed, with a laugh, and, eager to dispel the heavier atmosphere, asked, "What kind of fun are we talking, exactly?"

"Oh, Roxas, if I told you that, your cheeks would burn right off your face. The things I did have no place in polite conversation."

"So let's _not_ have a polite conversation, then," Roxas suggested, the booze starting to sink in. "Let's," he added impishly, "have an _impolite_ conversation."

"I can _see_ your teeth shining in the darkness, mister," Axel warned. "I see that grin, and so does Jesus. Are you sure you want to be talking about such lurid things in an empty classroom at your high school reunion while getting irresponsibly drunk?"

When Roxas answered, _"Yes,"_ Axel immediately sat forward and, placing his elbows on his knees, started conspiratorially, "So, anyway, there was this _one_ time, me and this guy in my dorm, his name was Reno, we snuck into the dean's office while she was out and –"

A minute later, Roxas was choking with laughter. "That's not a dirty story!"

"What are you talking about?" Axel protested. "Shaving cream in her drawers, whipped cream borders on her diplomas, and a veritable petting zoo of geese and rabbits in her executive bathroom! How does it get dirtier than that?"

Roxas rocked back on the desk as he laughed, trying not to spill his champagne. Looking pleased with himself, Axel drained a cup and reached for the next one. "Okay, now it's your turn – what's the worst prank you pulled at college?"

Wiping a tear from his eye with the heel of his palm, the blond sniffed sharply and struggled to think. "Ah… Well, this one time, Sora and I…"

The time passed quickly, the drinks disappearing until there were only empty cups littered about, some of them knocked to the ground, at which point Axel brought out a flask from his jacket pocket and they took turns swallowing burning swigs from its narrow spout.

Eventually, when the pair of them were quite drunk, Axel unsteadily said, "You know, all this is pretty incredible. I didn't even think you'd remember me, but then here we are, having drinks together, and having fun, and it makes me happy."

"It makes me happy, too," Roxas told him, beaming, the two of them sitting closer now, perched on the edges of their desks, knees side by side from their sharing of Axel's flask. "We're a long, a long way from high school, and I'm glad you're here."

"The me from high school would be passing out from shock right now," Axel said. "The indirect kisses alone from us passing my flask back and forth would have kept him, kept me happy for a week." He let out a snort, shaking his head. "It was stupid. I was so _obsessed_ with you."

Leaning forward, Roxas mischievously asked, "Are you still obsessed with me?"

Axel let out a few dismissive noises. "Pff. Psh. Snkk. _No."_

Nibbling his lower lip, a playful grin tugging the corners of his mouth, Roxas peered into Axel's averted face. Everything in him egging him on, he lifted a hand to the man's chin, fingertips ghosting along his skin, and, when he froze, Roxas extended his neck and brushed a kiss over Axel's parted lips. He heard the short intake of breath, and, when he drew back a little, he asked huskily, "How about now?"

Axel stared. "Uhhh…"

Roxas leaned in and kissed him again, a little longer this time, Axel's eyebrows as high as they would go when he pulled away again.

"Are you doing that because… you're drunk?" he asked, sounding a lot more sober himself than he had a minute ago. "Or is this out of pity?"

"Neither," Roxas told him, without a shadow of doubt, definitely _drunk_ but still completely aware of himself. "I wanted to; that's all." He swallowed, glancing at Axel's mouth, then back up to his eyes. "I like you."

Axel closed his eyes for a moment, looking, when he opened them again, like he was expecting to have woken up or otherwise come to his senses. But they were here, right now, in a darkened classroom, just the two of them. And Roxas had told him the absolute truth: the more he'd got to spend time with Axel, the more fun he'd been having, the more he decided that this was definitely… someone whose company he preferred over others.

Axel's voice was quiet. "You like me?"

"I wish," Roxas softly told him, "that I'd liked you back then."

Axel let out a low rush of air that could have almost passed for a laugh, his head briefly dipping. "W… I... Nah." He glanced away, rubbing his neck. "I was definitely a little weird back then."

"Then maybe I could have helped you be more normal," Roxas smiled, drawing Axel's incredulous gaze once more over to him.

"You… _like_ me?"

His smile widening, Roxas slid off his desk onto his feet, taking hold of the lapels of Axel's jacket, giving them a light tug. "I _like_ you. And the alcohol has nothing to do with it. I think you're fun, and smart, and witty…" He moved in beside Axel's ear, whispering, "And very sexy in these dark clothes."

He felt and heard Axel shudder, the man's breath emerging stutteringly. When Roxas nuzzled the side of his jaw, Axel's hands lifted hesitantly to his sides, sliding up to wrap around his waist, thumbs dragging along his shirt. He turned his face towards the blond… and Roxas was there to meet him, their first mutual kiss, slow and deep. Axel's hand eventually moved upward, brushing Roxas' cheek before settling on his shoulder, tugging him forward, Roxas willingly climbing onto his lap, a knee either side of him on the desk.

As their mouths hovered a bare breath apart, Axel murmured, "You said you never got serious about the other guys you liked…" His hands stroked down Roxas' arms. "That's not going to happen this time. You'll be so serious about me, you won't know how you ever did without me in your life."

A smile spreading slowly over his face, Roxas simply said, "Make me." Whether it was a challenge, a dare, or a request, neither of them knew. But the words were enough to enflame Axel, who surged up into a kiss that left Roxas' lips nearly burning from the intensity. He grabbed hold of the man, fingers lacing behind his head, both for something to hold on to, and to keep Axel's tongue deep in his mouth. Axel's hands went around to grasp Roxas' behind, ostensibly to keep him from slipping off but also to feel, to squeeze, to fondle. Clinging to one another in this fashion, the kisses came fast and hot, punctuated by small gasps and the occasional grunt.

When Roxas got carried away and started grinding ever so lightly atop Axel's crotch, the man hitched a breath and their position became suddenly tenuous as one of his feet skidded out from under him. They slipped, Axel very possibly scraping his lower back against the edge of the desk, his right foot managing to catch a nearby chair and kick it into a desk, the noise startlingly loud. They both froze, Roxas atop Axel, who was almost lying down on the desk now, and listened for a moment. After several seconds passed in which nobody kicked down the door, they broke into giggles.

Roxas then took the initiative and kept on kissing Axel while his mouth was still curved in a wide grin. His lips lost some of their smile the longer Roxas lapped at them, until, again, the intensity took over, and he was pulling Roxas down with him, fingers tracing the edges of his belt. More than ready for one or both of them to start losing their clothes, Roxas started loosening the buttons of Axel's shirt one by one. Once there was space enough, he delved a hand in to slide down the man's chest, Axel sighing at the caress. Soon, Roxas was peppering kisses down his throat, along his collarbone, all the while stroking at Axel's waist and chest, pushing the shirt and his jacket back to expose one shoulder and lightly scrape his teeth against it. Axel choked out a small moan, his fingers now moving clumsily to unbuckle Roxas' belt. He managed to get it apart, followed by the unbuttoning and unzipping of his pants, Roxas urging him to reach in and touch him – when sudden light poured in from the hallway.

They stopped dead, turning as one to stare nonplussed at the doorway, where a woman stood silhouetted, muttering, "I'm sure I heard it from in here…"

They saw her at about the same time she saw them, which was how, moments later, they found themselves rapidly making their exit, buttoning shirts and pants, re-buckling belts, with their old History teacher dogging their every step, hissing reprimands until they out of the building and told not to come back for the ten year reunion.

In something of a daze, they stood at the edge of the parking lot under the dark sky, a cool night breeze offering sweet relief against their heated flesh. Turning to Axel, Roxas said, "Well, that was awkward. What now?"

Axel thought for a moment, then reached into his jacket pocket, felt around, and brought out a set of keys. With a cocky grin, he swung them back and forth in front of the blond and asked, "Wanna see the backseat of my car?"

.o.O.o.

Sora, with Riku, Kairi, and Naminé in tow, was looking for Roxas. He had learned a while ago, when Naminé cracked under the pressure of their questions, that she and Axel _weren't_ in fact going out, and that Axel was as gay for Roxas as he'd ever been. This gave Sora feelings of brotherly concern, especially when the two at some point simply vanished without a word and hadn't been seen or heard from since. It wasn't like he thought Axel would _do_ something to Roxas, but more that Roxas was probably baled up in a corner somewhere receiving impassioned declarations of love with no ability to get away. Try though they might, though, neither he nor Naminé could get hold of Roxas or Axel. Sora already knew that Roxas' phone was set to silent, and it turned out that Axel's was, too – nobody wanted to be disturbed or be the guy texting in the corner at their high school reunion.

For a while, Sora had been fine with letting time get away from them, sure that Roxas would show up at some point or another. But when one hour passed, then another, with no sign of _either_ man, that was when he'd started to think it was probably best to go looking. First, they'd split up to search, but when that yielded nothing, they started asking around, giving descriptions of the two vanished reunion-goers. When this, too, proved fruitless, they reconvened to have a drink and listen to Naminé assure them that Axel wouldn't be behaving in an ungentlemanly fashion.

"He's really very gentle and dear," she told them earnestly. "He'd never do anything that Roxas disliked."

As much as Sora more or less believed her, Roxas' absence nevertheless became an itch at the back of his mind. He could do little more than keep an eye out for his brother, however. As they milled near the refreshments table, certain that Roxas would return at _some_ point for more free champagne, it was Pence who found them, and told them that someone had seen two guys fitting Roxas and Axel's descriptions leaving the school's front entrance a short while ago.

"Maybe they went to get some fresh air?" Kairi suggested.

"Well, let's go find them, anyway," Sora asserted, eager to see for himself that Roxas was doing fine. As Pence returned to Hayner and Olette elsewhere in the reunion, Sora, Riku, Kairi and Naminé spilled out into the hallway and made for the exit, the two girls engaged in animated conversation as they went, having evidently hit it off. Descending the stairs outside the school, Sora looked around, his hair ruffling in the wind, Riku's trailing in front of his face, needing to be tucked behind ears. Scanning the parking lot, Sora couldn't immediately see either a familiar blond head or a more striking red-haired one.

Venturing into the rows of cars, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called, _"Rooooxas!"_ When no response came, he followed it with, _"Axel?"_ Still nothing. "Where could they _be?"_ he muttered, scratching his head.

"Oh!" Naminé suddenly raised a hesitant hand. "They might have gone to the car to get out of the cold?"

"Well, it _is_ pretty chilly," Sora mused, then nodded and made a sweeping motion with one arm, inviting Naminé to take the head of the group. She skittered ahead, the three of them striding after her as she located where Axel had parked his car.

"Um, it should be around here somewhere…" She paused, fingers tapping at her lips, before her face brightened and she pointed. "There!" She was indicating a black car with heavily tinted windows, its dark paint gleaming under the nearby illumination being thrown by a streetlight. The group made a beeline for it, Sora again hurrying to the fore, his long steps taking him to the driver's side door. Yanking on the handle, he swung it open and stuck his head in, peering about and calling in a sing-song, "Rox-as, come out, come out, wherever you – _ugh-argh!_ " He reeled back, wrenching himself away from the thick, steamy air within the car, wheeling around and wailing, _"My eyes!"_

From within the car, muffled curses were heard, a few thumps, and then, finally, the back door opened a crack, a thoroughly shirtless – and possibly more – Axel squinting through the gap. "Can we – help you guys?" he panted.

From somewhere behind him, Roxas snarled, "Sora, I am going to _kill you!"_

 _"I'm already dead!"_ Sora moaned, staggering away, dragging at the skin beneath his eyes. "Oh, that was something I never wanted to _see._ Riku! Help! It's too awkward! _It's too awkward!"_

Kairi was laughing off somewhere a few feet away, grasping her stomach and wheezing, while Naminé tip-toed closer to the car and asked, "Um, Axel? Can I have the car keys? When you guys are… done… I don't think you should be driving. You catch a taxi home, and I'll take the car."

Kairi, nearly crying from laughing, added, "Make sure they roll the windows down before they leave!"

With an anguished groan, Sora fled to Riku's embrace, his boyfriend accepting him with utter bewilderment, patting his hair and asking, "What… exactly did you see?"

 _"Nothing,"_ Sora rasped, and never before had a more haunted word been uttered. "Nothing at all."

Axel located the keys and slipped them through the door, Naminé thanking him with blushing cheeks and retreating quickly. The door closed again with a distinct _thud,_ and for a shell-shocked moment, the four of them stood in place, Kairi still giggling, and processed what had just occurred. From the car, a low murmur of voices could be heard, Roxas and Axel evidently discussing the intrusion. _Well,_ Sora thought dazedly, _at least Axel isn't doing anything he doesn't… like…?_

"Augh." He clutched his head, wishing he hadn't remembered Naminé's words right at that moment.

Then, in a sudden shift in tone, one of the voices inside the car became what was obviously a _moan._

Sora snapped. Clutching his head, he shrieked, _"Augghhh! Riku, we're never having sex again!"_

Riku's arms stiffened around him. "Wh… what!?"

Sora took off running towards the auditorium, Riku in half-panicked pursuit, leaving Kairi and Naminé to follow at a more leisurely pace, Sora's anguished cry of, _"Awkwardsauuuuce!"_ carrying through the night.


	6. Sunshine

Prompt: sunshine  
Main pairing: RiSo  
Rating: G  
Word count: 13,732  
AO3 collection: /collections/AkuRokuRiSo_Month  
Prompted By: sylvermyth (tumblr)

.o.O.o.

Riku was seven years old when his grandfather took him aside and gifted him with a jar of sunshine.

"This is a very special gift, Riku," Yen Sid solemnly told him, who, when crouched, was as tall as the boy when he was standing. Riku had a hand planted on the old man's shoulder, eyes wide, expression an echo of Yen Sid's as he gazed sombrely at the jar. It was the size of a pickle jar, made of heavy-bottomed glass, with a silver lid screwed tightly in place. The glow of light within was bright and warm, undulating between yellow and white. When Riku reached out a cautious hand to touch, the glass was cold, Yen Sid softly urging him, "Be careful, now. The sunshine will fly away if the jar is opened or broken. You must take excellent care of it."

"Doesn't sunshine belong in the sky?" Riku asked, after a moment's contemplation, lifting a foot to scratch his leg while holding his grandfather for balance.

"Ordinarily, yes. But this is special sunshine. One day, we will set it free, but until then we must keep it safe and sound. This is a task I leave to you." Riku met his eyes, filled with childlike seriousness, seeming to search the old man for confirmation that something so important was being left to him. "I trust you, Riku," Yen Sid told him, holding the jar out for the boy to take.

After a hesitation, Riku reached for it, small hands pressing carefully but firmly around the sides of the glass. His arms dipped a little as Yen Sid slowly withdrew his hands, until Riku was left cradling it. The light within filled it completely, unmoving but in motion even so, as if it blinked slowly in and out of existence.

Yen Sid remained crouched, his intense eyes fixed upon the boy, who curiously turned the jar and peered inside, looking at it from different angles. When at last he seemed satisfied that Riku was treating it with the appropriate care and reverence, the old man straightened, patting a hand gently atop the boy's silver-haired head.

"Good boy."

Riku glanced after his grandfather as he left, then carried the jar to where he had been drawing in a book before Yen Sid had interrupted him. He placed it down where he could keep an eye on it, returning to his former position on his belly. For several minutes, his face caught in his hands, he studied the jar, large eyes taking in every available detail. When the sunshine failed to do anything new in that time, however, he gradually lost interest, and returned to his pictures.

.o.O.o.

That night, Riku was awoken by a whisper in his dreams. His eyes slowly fluttered open, the boy sitting after a moment and rubbing his face sleepily. He blinked around the room, his gaze settling eventually on the jar of sunshine. His mother had draped a pillow case over it so that the brightness wouldn't keep Riku from sleeping, but it still managed to gently illuminate the room, glowing dully through the fabric. Everything was still, and silent.

After a minute of nothing happening, Riku, forgetting why he had woken, lay down with a deep, tired breath, and was almost back asleep when he heard the whisper again: _"Riku."_

His eyelids popped open. Twisting on his pillow, he angled his head to look around, his eyes again inevitably drawn to the jar. With a small sideways twitch of his lips, he thought for a few seconds, then pushed back his blankets and rolled out of bed. In shorts and a rumpled t-shirt, he crossed the room with careful steps, bare toes pushing into the soft carpet. Warily, he circled the desk the jar sat upon. When nothing immediately happened, he shifted closer, took the edge of the pillow case, and tugged it up a short distance, one aquamarine eye peering in at the sunshine.

It looked no different than when he had last looked at it before bedtime. His mouth formed a slight pout of confusion. He was sure he had heard someone say his name, and was even _more_ sure that it had come from over here.

Just as he was feeling a prickle of uncertainty that risked becoming fear – perhaps there was a monster in the closet? – he felt the faintest tingle in his skin, and then, that little whisper: _"Riku."_

His eyes widened. It had been the jar! Or, the sunshine inside the jar. It had spoken his name!

Blinking in surprise, he pulled the pillow case a little higher, the golden light touching his face in the darkness. "Hello?" he cautiously said. "My name is Riku."

 _"Riku."_

The tingle in his skin came again, almost like the exhaling push of a summer's breeze, and he nodded, hair falling across his eyes, needing to pushed out of the way as he continued to hold his head sideways. "I'm Riku," he repeated.

 _"Riku."_

"Yes." He considered, then asked, "Do _you_ have a name?"

There was a long pause. Maybe the sunshine was called Riku, too?

 _"Sora."_

His interest piqued, the boy straightened and slid the pillow case away entirely, the whole room lighting up with the sunshine's gentle radiance. "Sora?"

 _"Sora."_

"I'm Riku," he said.

 _"Riku,"_ the sunshine responded, the whisper gaining a little strength.

"What's your name?" he prompted.

Another short pause followed, then, to Riku's delight, the sunshine said, _"Sora."_

"You _can_ talk!" He snatched the jar up and ran back to his bed, sitting cross legged on the pillow with the jar nestled in his blankets. "Is it true that you're sunshine?" the boy asked inquisitively. "I've never heard of talking sunshine before."

 _"…Sora."_

"Sora." Riku nodded, smiling. "So you're sunshine, but you're also Sora."

To a seven year old, this made as much sense as anything. After all, if a jar of sunshine was talking, and telling him its name, who was he to disagree? He already knew his grandfather was a clever and powerful sorcerer – that he should gift Riku with talking sunshine wasn't surprising so much as it was pride-worthy. Maybe Riku would grow up to be a powerful sorcerer, too – maybe the sunshine would help him along the way.

He talked a little longer with the sunshine, but couldn't get anything further out of it than their names. That was okay, though – maybe it was just sleepy. Riku was sleepy, too. Before long, he had dropped back into slumber, the jar clutched to his chest, finding no difficulty, after all, in falling asleep despite the brightness.

.o.O.o.

The next time Yen Sid visited, some days later, Riku came running up to him, breathless with eagerness. "Grandfather! It talks! The sunshine talks and its name is Sora!"

"Ahh. Is that so?" Yen Sid smiled slightly, bending to look as Riku reached around to a cloth bag slung over his shoulders.

"Mom made me a bag to carry him in," the boy said, Yen Sid noticing the effortless way he switched between thinking of the light as an 'it' and a 'him'.

"Sora is a boy?"

"He says he is," Riku answered, swinging the bag around to his front and parting it to let the old man look inside. "He's been learning more and more words. Sora, this is Grandfather Yen Sid!" He spoke into the bag, the light shining strongly from within its depths.

After a moment, a whisper touched Yen Sid's mind: _"Grandfather…"_

Riku nodded quickly. "Grandfather _Yen Sid."_ He said the last two words loudly and clearly down at the bag.

 _"Grandfather… Yen… Sid."_

"See!?" Riku's head snapped up for him to grin at the old man, who shook his head with an impressed smile.

"Very well done, Riku. I can see you're taking very good care of Sora. I'm very proud of you."

The boy brightened at the praise. "Can I keep taking care of him?"

"Of course," Yen Sid answered. "As long as you and Sora continue to get along, he is yours to care for."

Riku looked pleased, glancing down at the jar in the bag. "Sora, you want to go play? Or do some drawing with me?"

The murmur that passed through Yen Sid's head was, _"Drawing with me…"_

Happily, the boy twisted and set off to gather his book and pencils. Yen Sid watched him go, a pensive expression in place, but one that was ultimately satisfied. He would continue to keep an eye on both Riku and the entity calling itself 'Sora'… but he was confident in his decision to allow the boy to act as its guardian.

Things were turning out well.

.o.O.o.

From then on, Riku considered Sora a friend. Not only that, but Sora was his most special friend – nobody else had a jar of sunshine that could talk and play games. He wasn't allowed to take it to school, because his mother told him the jar might break, and Riku gravely agreed that keeping Sora at home was for the best. Besides, he didn't necessarily like the idea of having to introduce Sora to the other children, and have them try to make him a friend of their own. Grandfather Yen Sid had trusted _Riku_ with the jar, and nobody else was allowed to think they were equal to him in Sora's estimation. His was the first name that Sora had ever spoken, and that meant that Riku was the most important.

Whenever he wasn't at school, he toted Sora around either in his bag or in his arms. It seemed that he never tired of laying his head down on whatever surface Sora happened to inhabit, be it the floor or a countertop or desk, and watch with fascination the gradual ebb and swell of Sora's light. It was the most soothing thing Riku could ever remember, except for his mother's arms during a thunderstorm. There was something about Sora that made him feel safe, and loved – a persistent warmth, despite the coldness of the jar, and a sweetness in the voice that touched his thoughts that made him feel like nothing bad could ever happen; as though as much as Riku was taking care of Sora, somehow it was Sora who was also taking care of Riku. And that's what friends were for, right?

It didn't occur to Riku to question the nature of Sora's existence for a long time. Sora was Sora; Sora was sunshine. Sora was the voice in his mind, and his friend.

.o.O.o.

One day, at age eight, while Riku sat out in the back yard, Tidus arrived unannounced. Riku was in the sandbox, Sora planted inside a shifting yellow hill, while Riku busily dug a moat around him, exchanging occasional words with the light inside the jar. Sora's vocabulary was growing gradually larger, the words in Riku's head occasionally having a playfulness to them.

 _"Will I sink?"_ Sora asked, when Riku told him he was going to ultimately pour water into the moat.

"No," the boy answered, "I won't let you. The water goes _around_ you. You won't even get wet."

 _"Will I sink?"_

 _"No,_ I said." His strident response was met with a derisive laugh. With a slight gasp, Riku swivelled on his knees, peering through his hair at the source of the sound.

Tidus stood at the edge of the yard, barefooted on the green grass, a wooden sword in one hand and a ball under the other arm. His head tilted to one side, blond hair a mess, he demanded, "Who're you talking to?"

Riku's lips pressed thin. Rising to his feet, brushing off his knees, he stepped out of the sandbox and crossed the yard halfway. "Who invited you in?" he asked, the rudeness of his tone causing Tidus to scowl.

"I let _myself_ in. I can reach your gate, you know. I stood on a bucket." Taking a few steps closer, he asked again, "So, who're you talking to? I heard you talking."

The word _'Nobody'_ was poised on the tip of Riku's tongue… but Sora was within earshot. He didn't want his sunshine friend to hear him talk about him like he didn't exist. With a hesitant glance over his shoulder towards the sandbox, he answered, "I was talking to – I was talking to myself."

Tidus scoffed. "Do you have an imaginary friend, Riku? That's baby stuff. Come and play sword fights instead."

Riku glared. "He's not imaginary. Sora's _real."_

With interest, Tidus asked, "Sora? Who's that?"

Riku gritted his teeth, angry that he'd let it slip. This was his big secret, the responsibility that Grandfather Yen Sid had trusted him with. Behind him, he heard, with dismay, _"Sora."_

He turned towards the sandbox as Tidus leaned to the side to peer around him, mouth dropping open. "Who said that?" He started towards the play area, quickly cut off by Riku, arms thrust wide.

"No! You're not allowed!"

Snorting, Tidus shoved a shoulder into the shorter boy's chest and pushed past, trotting over to where Sora sat in the sand. He looked around, then twisted and called to the livid Riku, "There's no one here! It's just a shiny jar!"

 _"Shiny jar,"_ Sora echoed, and Tidus visibly jolted, whirling back towards the sandbox.

"Wha – who said that!?" He stepped into the sand, demanding loudly, "Whoever said that, come out! I'm not kidding!" Dropping the ball to roll across the lawn, he readied his wooden sword.

Alarmed by his aggressive stance, Riku hurried over towards him, as Sora mimicked, with a burst of mischief, _"I'm not kidding! I'm not kidding!"_

With a small cry, Tidus looked around frantically, well aware he was being mocked but entirely incapable of figuring out where it was coming from. "Stop that!" His gaze settling on the uneven sand, he shrilly announced, "I know you're hiding in the sand! I'll find you!" With that, he started stomping, driving his heels into each mound, sending the sand puffing out in clouds. Riku saw Sora's jar start to tip and felt a burst of panic. _No!_ He was supposed to be protecting him!

He snatched hold of Tidus' arm, the boy shaking him off, Sora singing out, _"I'll find you, I'll find you, I know you're hiding in the sand, I'll fiiind you. Shiny jar, shiny jar, shiny jar!"_

At last seeming to understand that it was the glowing jar that was the cause of all the trouble, Tidus sent it a wild stare, then shifted his grip on his sword and made as if to swing at it. That was when, with a roar, Riku tackled him to the ground. The two boys fell out of the sandbox and hit the grass hard, Riku swinging small fists packed with all his might. They rolled, Tidus struggling to free himself from the assault, eventually managing to slam Riku in the eye with the butt of his sword.

With loud cries, they flung themselves apart, breathing hard, Riku clutching his eye while Tidus touched his bleeding lip. At the sight of the blood, the boy burst into noisy tears. Scrambling to his feet, he wailed, _"Who ever heard of a talking jar!"_ He snatched up his ball and scurried halfway back towards the gate, turning once he was at a safe distance and yelling, _"Jars aren't supposed to talk, and you're_ ** _mean."_**

"Sora's not the jar!" Riku screeched furiously back. "He's the sunshine inside!"

With an almighty sniff and an even bigger breath, Tidus howled, _"Well, who ever heard of talking sunshine!? There's no such thing! There's no such thiiiing, otherwise the whole sky would be talking!"_

With that final lashing opinion imparted, Tidus turned on his heel and fled the yard, the gate slamming in his wake. Panting, Riku took several steps after him, hands balled tight at his sides, trying desperately to muster up a suitably cutting response to put the blond in his place… but his head was blank. He'd never thought about it like that before. If Sora was sunshine, and Sora could talk, did that mean that all sunshine could talk?

He tilted his head back, squinting up into the bright sky. For a long moment, his chest heaving as he continued to try to catch his breath, he listened carefully. Then he said, "Hello?" He glanced around, wondering if the sun's light would answer.

Then, from back in the sandbox, he heard, _"Hello! Riku, hello."_ He turned, gazing over at where Sora's jar sat crookedly in the sand after Tidus' attack. Shuffling back to him, fighting back the tears that wanted to come from the pain in his eye, he climbed back into the sandbox and sat next to Sora's jar. _"Hello, Riku,"_ Sora said softly, bright inside the glass.

"Hello, Sora," Riku brokenly answered, lifting his knees and wrapping his arms around them. "Sora, does the sky talk like you talk?"

 _"Does the sky talk?"_ Sora asked.

The boy sighed shakily, and shook his head. "I've never heard it talk. Have you?"

 _"I've never heard it talk."_

"Sora?"

 _"Riku?"_

He felt a flash of relief. Sometimes, he wondered if the sunshine was just copying him – but Sora was in there, after all. Sora still knew his name. "You're my best friend," Riku told him, and, the pain in his eye too much to bear after the angry confrontation that caused it, he lowered his head to his knees and wept a little.

 _"You're my best friend,"_ Sora sweetly said, and, through his tears, Riku smiled.

.o.O.o.

When Riku was eleven, and losing some of his innocent, youthful naivety, he confronted Yen Sid about Sora's true nature.

"You can't expect me to believe that he's really sunshine," he stated, standing cross-armed in front of his grandfather's regal desk. Yen Sid studied him over tented fingers, his gaze as focused and unsettling as ever. Those eyes saw everything, a fact of which Riku was becoming more aware the older he got.

"Where is Sora now? Did you bring him with you?"

"I didn't." Riku didn't explain that it was because he didn't want Sora to hear him talk like this about him, didn't want to admit to the stab of guilt he'd experienced at leaving him behind. He'd been leaving him behind a lot, lately. "You need to understand that I'm not a child," he defiantly went on, "and I can't keep having an imaginary friend. It's kid stuff."

Lifting his chin slightly, Yen Sid asked, "You think of Sora as imaginary?"

Riku hesitated, unable, after a stretching pause, to maintain eye contact. "…Well, it's not like he's real," he answered, with some frustration. "There's no such thing as talking sunshine, Grandfather."

"Yet it was you who came to _me,"_ Yen Sid calmly pointed out, with rising brows, "telling me that the jar of sunshine I gave to you to watch and protect was speaking, indeed had a name. And it was then that I, too, discovered that Sora was more than I had first assumed."

"I was seven!" Riku objected. "Seven year olds believe in anything."

"And now? Where does your belief lie, Riku?" Yen Sid leaned forward only slightly, but it was enough to make Riku feel like he'd been pierced by a pin, a feebly flapping butterfly under the old man's gaze.

"I…" Could he dismiss Sora's existence so readily? With a glare, he met Yen Sid's eyes determinedly. "That's why I came here. I want to know the truth. 'Sunshine' isn't the truth, Grandfather. If sunshine could talk, the whole sky would be talking."

Yen Sid inclined his head faintly at this. His hands relaxed somewhat from their stiff position. "That," he supposed, "is a fair observation." His gaze remained steady. "However, I am quite sure I told you at the very start that what I was giving you was something special. You were the only one I trusted to take care of it… and you have." Stroking his grey beard, he went on, "Thus, because of this, because of the excellent care you have shown towards Sora, I shall tell you more than you could have comprehended when you were seven."

Riku felt a sweeping shame at the man's words; lately, he hadn't been taking care of Sora at all. He had been neglecting the bright jar, with its oftentimes parroting, sometimes sentient inhabitant, more and more of late. He wanted to play sword fighting games, and swim in the ocean, and have fun without lugging around a jar that nobody else could possibly understand. Even Riku himself didn't understand it anymore.

But Yen Sid was going to fix that, right? He was going to tell the truth – the real one, not the sunshine crap. Riku was ready to know. He needed to.

"Sora is…" Yen Sid stopped for a moment, eyeing Riku closely, as if making sure, one last time, that he would be capable of understanding. "…a human soul." Riku blinked once, but gave no other indication, just yet, that the words had registered. Yen Sid continued: "He was a boy of eighteen years of age who was cut down in his prime. His body was taken by the darkness that lingers at the edges of the world." Yen Sid slowly raised a hand, forming a cage with his thumb and fingers. "I was there, and managed to _catch_ his soul before it could dissolve into the ether. I placed it in that jar so that it might remain in one piece, so to speak. And I gave that jar to you because a child's light was necessary to keep the soul from forgetting itself, and simply fading away."

With a constricting of insides and a sharp intake of breath, Riku blurted, "Could that still happen? Would it – would he fade away without me?"

Grimly, the old man said, "Now, more than ever, that risk exists. You have demonstrated to me here, today, that you are losing that childlike light. You are getting older, Riku, and part of becoming a man is to question one's surroundings, and turn one's back on fantasy. Were you any other boy, now would be the time that I took the jar from you and gave it to another young person to protect." At Riku's stricken expression, he relented, just the slightest bit, sitting back in his chair. "However, the bond that you share with Sora causes me to hesitate. I had not expected the two of you to communicate. I had no inkling that a soul even could. But something about you drew the _Sora_ part of that soul to the surface, and gave him a voice. I am reluctant to remove him from your presence, since you have practically shared a childhood together. What say you? Would you agree with this assessment?"

Never before had Yen Sid's gaze been more concentrated.

Almost incapable of drawing enough breath to answer, Riku's thoughts flashed over the years he had spent with his 'jar of sunshine' so far. His withdrawal from Sora had been a recent thing, but even so was enough to terrify him with the idea that the being that he had called his best friend, who had named him thus in turn, might simply cease to be with enough neglect. The words almost bursting from him, he begged, "Please, Grandfather – don't take him away." Squeezing his eyes shut, he beseeched, "Don't give Sora to someone else!"

He was breathing raggedly. When he eventually cracked his eyes back open, he found Yen Sid looking pleased behind his desk, his fingers back in their tented position. "If it is that passionately that you ask it of me," he said, "what kind of grandfather would I be to refuse?"

Nearly sagging with relief, Riku asked, "So I can keep him?"

"You may continue to watch over him," Yen Sid allowed. He then raised a long, thin finger. "However! Sora is not a pet, you understand. He is a living soul under your care. You were right to question his status as 'sunshine', but that makes him no less easily lost. A jar of sunshine… if you were to be somehow capable of catching it, the instant the lid was lifted, it would escape and spread across the atmosphere as if it had never existed in a condensed state. It is much the same for a human soul. Riku, if Sora is ever let loose, he will be forever lost."

With wide eyes, the boy silently nodded. Effectively terrorised, through one thing and another, into several more years of guaranteed quality care of his charge, Yen Sid dismissed Riku shortly thereafter.

Riku positively sprinted home. He thumped upstairs to his bedroom, sprang desperately across to the closet, and opened the door carefully. Staring down at the floor behind his shoes, he saw the dull luminosity beneath the trappings of a tightly-wrapped pillow case. Lowering to his knees, gently, more gently than he had handled anything in his life, the boy reached in and picked it up. He drew it out, cradling it close, and parted the fabric from around Sora's jar.

 _"Riku…"_

Tears welled in his eyes. "…I'm sorry," was all he could say, before wrapping the jar in his arms, nose pressed to the glass, salty trails sliding single-file down his cheeks.

 _"You're my best friend,"_ Sora said, and the warm tingle through his skin, Riku realised, was something he had sorely missed.

"I won't ever let you fade away," he promised in a whisper.

 _"I won't ever let you fade away."_

With a small laugh, rubbing the heel of his palm against one wet cheek, Riku answered, "Okay. It's a deal."

.o.O.o.

At the age of fifteen, Riku was summoned by Yen Sid. It was requested by the old man that he not bring Sora with him, so Riku had left him on the corner of the desk in his bedroom, in a patch of sunlight. Sora always seemed to react positively to the light, seemed to swell brighter and sound more peaceful in Riku's head.

He stood, once again, before the old man's desk, in the large circular room at the top of the tower in which Yen Sid practiced his trade. The man sat in his large chair, hands resting on its arms, gaze as scrutinising as ever as Riku, arms by his sides, waited for his grandfather to speak.

At last, Yen Sid asked, "You did as I requested, and left Sora behind?"

"Yeah. Why? I take it this is about him," Riku answered, feeling an edge of protectiveness towards his friend, made slightly uneasy by the fact that he was the focus of their conversation. After their meeting when he was eleven, Yen Sid had once again left Sora to Riku's care, never questioning. That he was suddenly here for another meeting after four years had him wary, if not outright fearful, somewhere deep inside. Would today be the day that Yen Sid told him he was too old to keep Sora from fading? Would Sora be taken from him, given to a child who had no idea of the truth of his nature, or the years he had already spent with Riku? And if that were to happen… would Sora recognise it? Or would he simply – transfer his affections, disconnected and rambling as they could be, to another?

The thought brought a pang to Riku's heart. He steeled himself for an argument. He readied himself, even, for the inevitability of having to give Sora up – after all, as precious as he was to Riku, if the alternative was that he disappeared from inside the jar… Riku wouldn't hesitate to hand him over. Even if doing so would be like handing over a piece of his own self.

And so it was that his hardened resolve and thinned lips were surprised apart by Yen Sid saying, "I feel that the time has come to let you join the restoration effort for Sora."

Riku stared, caught off-guard and confused. "'Restoration effort' – Grandfather, what are you talking about?"

Sitting straighter, Yen Sid explained, "In the years since Sora was lost – in the time that you have been caring for him – I and others have in fact been working to return Sora to his body."

Utterly flabbergasted, Riku reeled for a moment, then exclaimed, "Grandfather! Why didn't you tell me sooner? Is that even possible? You said his body was taken by the darkness!"

"You were too young, before now, to be allowed in to the project," Yen Sid said, answering only his first question. "It has been the work of eight years at this point. We began as soon as I gave Sora to you for safekeeping, but you could not be trusted to know of it. Sora cannot be made aware of it until the very last moment. If he begins to question his existence, for whatever reason, his tenuous grasp on this reality may be all too easily lost. From the start, his self-awareness was not something any of us anticipated."

"Us? Who is 'us'?" Riku demanded. Yen Sid pushed himself with a sigh from his chair, rising elegantly, gazing down at the boy.

"That depends on whether you would like to join the effort. The project is far from finished, Riku. If you join us, you would be a valuable addition; however, you would spend much of your time between school and sleeping at home here, working extremely hard. If that is not a lifestyle you feel yourself capable of committing to, then our conversation goes no further. With my respect, you would leave here and likely not return until I summoned you again some years from now, to bring Sora to us."

"And what if I agree?" the boy demanded, almost interrupting the end of Yen Sid's speech. His grandfather smiled slightly, approval in his expression at how impatiently Riku treated the first option.

"If you agree," he said, lacing his fingers together, "you will join us. As I said, the life will not be easy – it will be long, and difficult, and you will not see much of the outside world. You will work as we all have, over the last eight years: tirelessly. That is what Sora is worth to us."

"He's worth it to me, too," Riku said, almost snapping the words out. The thought that all of this occurring behind the scenes without his knowledge, of other people caring so much about Sora that they would dedicate so much of their lives to somehow rescuing him from his light-based state, made him sting with sudden jealousy. "You should have told me sooner."

"As I said, you could not know, for fear that you would tell something of it to Sora and disturb his fragile awareness. Any more than this, I cannot explain until you agree to join us."

"Then, I agree." Riku didn't hesitate. Before Yen Sid could begin droning more cautions, he heatedly forged on, "Sora's my best friend. I'd protect him for as long as he needed me, I'd be an old man carrying around a jar of sunshine if he lasted that long – but considering the fact that he could end up vanishing, if just the jar coming open would mean the end of him, then if someone is trying to – to 'restore' him, I want to help. I _have_ to help. That's what a best friend does." His words were so sure, so true, that Yen Sid accepted them without any further discussion. Riku had made up his mind, and nothing would sway him. Sora needed him, in a way that he hadn't realised until now, and there was nothing on this world or the next that would prevent him from doing what was required to save him.

"Very well," the old man said, and with a simple gesture, rounded his desk and commanded, "Follow me."

Still agitated by the new information, Riku did as he was told but wore a scowl while doing so. Yen Sid led him down the spiralling stairs of the tower, then down further still to the basement. Riku had visited this part of the tower only twice in his lifetime. It was a cluttered area, filled with ensorcelled items and rows of shelves near to bursting with magical ingredients and collected curios. It was far too sensitive an area for a child to bluster about, which Riku had learned during the first of his two descents, when Yen Sid had discovered him down here and half-terrified him with the scolding he'd received. The second time, it had been in the old man's presence, when Yen Sid had required an extra set of hands carrying things up to his study, a trek so exhausting that Riku had prayed to never have to go near the basement again. Being down here, therefore, gave him mixed feelings.

Yen Sid strode confidently along, weaving through the controlled chaos with the utmost familiarity of every section of his surroundings. Riku followed with more care, wary of bumping into something, until they were at the back of the room, facing a wall of bookshelves. Yen Sid trailed a hand over the mismatched array of spines until he stopped at no particular one that Riku could see as being different from the rest, and tugged it. With a sharp click, the entire bookshelf popped out an inch.

"Huh," was all Riku uttered, receiving an arch look from his grandfather that said he was well aware that he had surprised the boy, who was simply too stubborn to be anything but casual about it. Riku gazed coolly back, and it was with the faintest of snorts that Yen Sid swung the hidden doorway open.

"It closes on a hinge," he warned, just a little too late to prevent Riku from getting knocked forward by it as he followed him through. Riku could've sworn he saw the old man smirking. With his head held high, expression stubborn, he continued on without comment, making a mental note about the hinge for the future.

They followed a granite tunnel along a decline, lit by sconces of magic flame. Riku itched to know _where_ exactly they were going, but knew better than to ask; Yen Sid would have said already if he'd intended to before they got there. Riku would simply wait, and see for himself.

It took a full fifteen minutes to reach the end of the tunnel, which opened up into a vast subterranean laboratory. At this point, Riku lost his ability to appear unfazed – he openly gaped at his surroundings. Large tanks of viscous green and blue fluid cast an eerie glow over the myriad steel and mesh surfaces, connected by tubes to a collection of machines filling the space, all centred around a great, white pod in the middle of the room. A large monitor covered most of one wall, with a wide switchboard beneath it suggesting that it was some sort of industrial computer.

Most startling to Riku, though, were the people dotted throughout it all. They glanced up as Yen Sid entered, then became suddenly very focused on Riku when he came into view.

"This," Yen Sid announced, "is my grandson, Riku. Riku," he turned to the teenager, "welcome to the restoration chamber. It is here that we combine ancient magic with modern technology in the hopes of recreating a body for Sora to someday return to."

As Riku struggled to take it all in, visually and intellectually, the people within the chamber left their tasks and approached. Riku blinked, shifting his attention to them as they gathered before him, and for a stretching moment, nobody spoke. The expressions of them – six in total, Riku quickly noted – ranged between awed, approving, and, curiously enough, almost tearfully happy. It was the woman whose face held the latter emotion that moved first, her boots moving quietly across the floor, hands reaching out to gently close Riku's between her own, her pink dress shifting around her calves. With eyes that shimmered with moisture, she beamed.

"Riku. It's so good to finally meet you. You've been – taking good care of him, haven't you? Yen Sid has kept us updated."

 _Him?_ Sora? "You know Sora?" he carefully asked, and as one, the collection of people nodded.

"He's one of us," a tall, dull-voiced, dark-haired man said. "Or, he was."

Riku looked around at them slowly. "These are the members of the restoration effort," Yen Sid told him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. Indicating them in turn, he introduced them as, "Aerith, Leon, Cloud, Yuffie, Cid, and Merlin."

"We've been working all these years to try and get Sora his body back," the woman called Yuffie said, regarding Riku with wonder. "And you – you've been taking care of his soul, right?"

"Yen Sid tells us," the old man, Merlin, said with interest, "that the soul speaks with you. That from virtually the moment you received it, it developed awareness."

Riku met his gaze coldly. "Not 'it'. Him. And yes, he's always talked to me. We're best friends. We have been since I was a child."

"Ah, naturally. My apologies, I'm sure. It's just…" Merlin trailed off, pushing a small pair of glasses regretfully up his nose.

"We all consider Sora a 'him', kid," Cid said, leaning against one of the coloured tanks, chewing a soggy toothpick. "But we ain't been as lucky as you. The bit of Sora we got our hands on doesn't talk back."

"The – bit of Sora?" Riku glanced uncertainly at Yen Sid, who inclined his head slightly.

"Sora's soul was not the only part of him we were able to save. His body was taken, but the pieces we managed to snatch back were his soul… and his heart. It is his heart that serves as the anchor for the restoration." Nodding at Cloud, who sat on the edge of a control panel, the man turned and flipped a couple of switches.

With a smooth mechanical sound, and a slight vibration through the floor, the white pod in the centre of the room shifted, before the opaque panels surrounding it slowly lowered, unfurling like petals, to reveal a clear shell within. Inside that, there hung a small but bright light, and all at once, Riku felt a shiver of recognition pass through him. He was heading towards it before he realised his legs were moving, until he stood before the pod, gazing up in wonder.

 _Sora…_

It wasn't as large as his soul, but it was _bright._ It was a concentration of light, like a pinprick of purity, rather than the hazier, larger, pulsing entity that made up the Sora that Riku had grown up with. The feeling, though… it was the same. Riku could _feel_ Sora within the pod. This… was definitely his heart.

"But – why is this all there is?" Riku turned to the others, his previous attitude gone; mollified, somehow, by the presence of Sora's heart. "Haven't you been working at this for eight years?"

"It's slow going, kid," Cid told him.

"Much of what we do here," Yen Sid said, "is something that has never been done before. As a result, more often than not, we fail."

"It's all simulations," the monotonous Leon explained, indicating the massive screen on the wall with a jerk of his thumb. "We've been inventing methods and running simulations this whole time, trying to find the one which will work."

"We only get one chance with this," Aerith gently contributed. "If we make a mistake with Sora's heart, we risk losing it forever. We won't try the restoration in practice until the end of the project."

"If we can find the right way to do it," Yuffie sighed. "I mean, eight years, right? It's a long time."

"It's worth it." Riku's sharply spoken statement, an echo of his conversation with Yen Sid, caught their attention, and gradually they each nodded. "If he wasn't, you wouldn't have kept going this long. And he…" He looked back at the heart in the pod. "He'll appreciate it. He'll definitely thank you for it, when the day comes."

"…How is he?" Leon asked quietly.

"He's safe," Riku answered. "I've been taking care of him. He's… he's sweet, and innocent."

Cloud chuckled slightly. "So, nothing much has changed."

Aerith wiped her eyes, Cid pinching the bridge of his nose with a suspicious sniff, while the others simply smiled a little. Riku looked at Yen Sid. "I want to help. You have to let me help. I have to be here when he wakes up… and he has to know that I did everything I could until that moment."

Yen Sid looked proud in that moment, nodding firmly. "Then, you shall join us. The only rule is that talk of this project must never leave this room. If Sora, as he is now, learns that he is incomplete…"

"I won't," Riku quickly promised. "I _won't_ let him disappear." To the others, earnestly, he swore, "I won't."

Aerith and Yuffie caught him in a startling hug, Cid flashing him an approving thumbs-up, while Merlin dabbed at his cheeks with the hem of his blue robes. "Well, then," the old man sniffed, "Yen Sid, old friend, shall we continue our theory while the young ones show your boy around?"

Yen Sid answered, "Of course." To Riku, he said, "Familiarise yourself with this space, Riku. It will be as a second home to you before long. You will help Aerith, Yuffie, Cloud, Leon, and Cid with the technological components and theorising. Merlin and I will continue to study the intricacies of hearts, and strive to learn magicks that will aid the restoration effort."

The boy nodded. "Okay." Before Yen Sid could move away, Riku caught his sleeve. Meeting his gaze, putting every ounce of sincerity into his expression, he said, "Thank you, Grandfather. I think… I think Sora would want me to be part of this."

Yen Sid smiled faintly. "I agree."

As Yen Sid and Merlin headed off to a wide table covered in scrolls and surrounded by piles of books, Riku turned to the others. Leon beckoned him with a twitch of one finger. "Hey, kid. Riku. Over here." When Riku hesitantly stepped over to him, he asked, "Want to see a picture of Sora?"

The breath caught in Riku's chest. Eyes flaring wide, he wordlessly nodded. All this time, Sora had been a light in a jar; for so many years that had been the entirety of him, as far as Riku knew. When he had learned that Sora was once in fact a person, he had, of course, wondered about who that person was, what he'd been like… but he'd never imagined he could ever _see_ Sora. Sora, with a face? Sora as more than sunshine?

He hurried to Leon's side, the man leading him over to the industrial computer, turning on the monitor with the tap of a button. With little production, he tapped a few more different keys, and the screen shifted, showing, suddenly…

Blue eyes were the first thing Riku noticed. Bright, smiling eyes like spotless ocean pools. Beneath that, an outgoing, affable grin that could defrost even the chilliest of hearts. Brown, spiky hair above it all. Sun-kissed skin. A strong body.

Everything in Riku seemed to grind to a halt. "He's…" _Beautiful._ He couldn't say it out loud. Not with everyone listening, watching on with wide smiles. He was… overwhelmed. Overcome with emotion. He was shaking, couldn't stop staring up at the image, a photograph someone had taken at some point of Sora with his arms crossed.

 _Sora._

This – was his jar of sunshine in the flesh. Swallowing, Riku lowered his head at last, a hand on his chest. The gratitude he felt to Yen Sid for including him in this was beyond anything he'd ever known.

He wouldn't let him down. Not any of them. And especially not Sora.

With a deep breath, he muttered, "Show me what to do. However many more years it takes…" He dragged his eyes back up to Sora's static image, determination swelling. "I'm in til the end."

.o.O.o.

Riku spent his sixteenth birthday in the restoration chamber, and then, the year following, his seventeenth. As Yen Sid had warned, the work he was required to put in was tireless, but there wasn't a second of it in which he wasn't burning with resolve. Any time he might have felt himself faltering from how long it was taking, or how many simulations failed – and how much it still hurt to watch that happen on the big screen, to have months of work result in Sora's heart or soul disintegrating in front of their eyes – all it took was a trip home and some time spent with Sora to find his purpose again. As exhausted as Riku was, almost all the time these days, there was still nothing as soothing and regenerating as curling into bed with Sora's jar on his desk, falling asleep with the glow on the backs of his eyelids.

When he graduated high school, albeit barely, he threw himself even harder into his work. Yen Sid officially employed him as an arcane assistant, to keep his mother happy and any nosy friends at bay, and Riku all but moved into the restoration chamber from that point onward. There was a pile of blankets in the corner that he occasionally curled up on to grab a few hours of sleep before waking up and continuing, pencil scratching, keys tapping, pages turning. He quickly became the hardest working member of the project, arriving the earliest each day and leaving the latest.

If he was honest with himself, the only reason he ever went home was because Sora was there. As much as he longed to rebuild his body and restore him to true life, he wasn't going to blind himself to the Sora he had now, not to mention the fact that Sora needed him to keep from fading away. Riku's entire consciousness, one way or another, revolved around Sora.

Late at night, when he was sure no one was around, Riku would sometimes take a break and pull Sora's picture up on the big screen, then simply sit and stare, thinking of what once was and what would be again. There were other pictures, too – some taken of the boy while he was unaware, busily occupied, others taken with the group, posing with a grin, all of them part of a life Riku had had no idea about when he was just a child. These people, though, Leon, Cloud, Aerith, Yuffie, Cid – with Yen Sid acting as their master, and Merlin as an advisor – had been acting to hold back the darkness at the edge of the world for years. That was how Sora had been taken; a simple misstep, a miscalculation on the boy's part, and before their eyes he had been snatched away. It made Riku ache inside to think about – the thought of how close Sora had come to simply being removed from all existence was enough to make him shudder. He had already decided, as he'd learned about this life of keeping darkness at bay, that once Sora was back, and the restoration project finished, he would join them. He, too, would fight to keep the world from being swallowed.

And if Sora returned to the fight, Riku would be there to keep this from ever, ever happening again. He would be there, for the rest of their lives, to snatch him from the jaws of the void, each and every time.

.o.O.o.

It was a few months shy of Riku's eighteenth birthday that the calculations, magical study, and intensive research finally came together. After nearly eleven years, the restoration had a viable method for restoring Sora's body and returning his soul to it. For Riku, it had been a mere two and a half years, but Sora had been part of his life since he was a child; nobody considered him a lesser part of the restoration effort simply because he hadn't laboured in the laboratory with them the whole way through. If anything, Riku was considered something of an unofficial head of the project, due to his unmitigated zeal and dedication. There was no denying that his significant contribution in man hours and intellect had helped them along to this point.

When the simulation went through from start to finish without triggering the failure alarms on the computer, for several hours they refused to believe in it. They ran it again, and again, Riku front and centre, hunched over the main control panel, introducing small changes to deliberately result in failure before running the original parameters to successful completion.

Slowly, it sank in: they had found the correct formula. The exact sequence of actions, components, and magic to result in the return of Sora's physical form around his heart.

As the celebration began, Riku withdrew to the basement, feet dragging along the long passageway, until he could crouch in the silence of Yen Sid's storage room and clutch his head, heart pounding. He needed time to process this. The others were delighted, but for Riku they were now embarking upon a time of intense fear, for now they had to face to prospect of actually _doing_ the thing. No more theory, no more running it through the computer – this was going to _happen._ And if anything, anything at all, wasn't quite right – hell, perhaps even if it all went according to plan, with something occurring they hadn't anticipated – Sora's heart would be lost forever. The dream would die, and all that would be left was sunshine in jar. Sora had lasted this long… but how much longer _could_ a soul go on like this? And what if the only thing _really_ keeping him present wasn't Riku, but the existence of his heart? If that was gone – would the soul be soon to follow?

He felt sick. He was filled with terror, and dread. When the gamble was his best friend's survival, could he truly be part of this?

"What have you been working towards all this time?"

He leapt in his skin at the sudden voice, standing and whirling to face Yen Sid, who had followed silently and stood, for who knew how long, watching Riku agonise. Breathing hard, Riku gripped his hands into fists, voice strangled as he asked, "What if we're wrong? What if we kill him?"

"What," Yen Sid deliberately repeated, "have you been working towards all this time, Riku?"

Face contracting, he shook his head uncomprehendingly, then, when the man's gaze stabbed into him, forced himself to calm down and think it through. _What have I been doing?_

"I've been working towards… restoring Sora," he said at last. "Giving him his body back."

"And, what else?"

Riku's brow furrowed. "What else? What else is there?"

"Perhaps," the old man quietly suggested, "you should head on home, and think about that." He turned back towards the door to the restoration chamber. "Rest up, Riku. We will be performing further tests over the next three days. You should spend that time with Sora, and when we call you… you will bring him."

Yen Sid returned through the bookcase, leaving Riku alone again, the old man's words echoing in his head.

 _When we call you… you will bring him._

Three days. He had… three days with Sora, until the end. One way or another.

.o.O.o.

When Riku left Yen Sid's tower, he found that night had fallen. Time lost all meaning within the restoration chamber, where natural light couldn't touch. Magical flames didn't give a good idea of the time of day.

He hurried home, his parents out for the evening judging by the absence of their car from the driveway. His sneakers slammed the stairs as he headed up to his bedroom, plainer than it had been the day that Sora had first come to him. Where once it had been cartoon characters and stuffed toys, now Riku's room was nearly sombre in its emptiness, a lack of character to it that suggested his time was generally spent elsewhere. This was little more than a place to pass out for a night.

The one thing that made it his was the presence of Sora. That was all he needed to feel like he'd come home. The jar was where he'd left it, bathed in moonlight. Without eyes, or ears, it was by some other sense that Sora noticed him and said, _"Riku,"_ when he entered the room. There was happiness in that singly uttered word, he was certain. With a heavy breath and a smile, feeling some of his disquiet settling, Riku approached the desk and gently picked the jar up. Where once he had carried it with both arms, now it fit snugly into one hand.

"Sora." He sank into the desk's chair, cradling the jar against his chest, as if the warmth he felt in his heart when Sora spoke could be communicated directly back to him through the glass.

 _"Tired,"_ Sora said. When first he had started speaking this word, when Riku was still in high school, Riku had panicked, thinking that it was Sora himself feeling tired. It only occurred to him, after several frantic nights spent furthering their work in the restoration chamber, that Sora's increasing frequency of saying, _"Tired,"_ was in fact an observation. He could feel Riku's weariness, and commented on it as if concerned. He had nearly wept with relief when he'd figured it out.

"Tired," he confirmed, rolling the jar slowly back and forth across his chest. "I've been working hard, you know."

 _"Tired Riku, working hard…"_ Sora's murmur touched him with a marked increase in the vibration in his skin, an indication of emphasis. Sora cared.

"And Sora? How is Sora?" he softly asked.

 _"Tired Riku, working hard."_

Over the years, Sora's manner of communication had become easier and easier for Riku to identify. When he repeated a thought, it wasn't because he was a mindless regurgitator of words – it was because the topic mattered to him. If Riku asked Sora how he was, and Sora responded like this, then that meant, more or less, that how Sora felt was dependent on how Riku felt. He smiled faintly. "I'm all right. I just need some sleep." He hesitated. "I'll be home for the next three days. Grandfather… told me to take some time off to spend with you."

 _"Grandfather Yen Sid."_

"Yes." Riku gazed down at the bright light that had accompanied him for over half his life now. _What have you been working towards, all this time?_ "…In a few days, I'll be taking you someplace new."

 _"Someplace new... with Riku?"_

His chest ached. Drawing his knees up, he curled into almost a ball on the chair, Sora's jar held in a tight embrace. "Yeah. I'll be there," he murmured.

 _"Someplace new with Riku."_ Sora had no objections, sounded contented enough as long as Riku was going to be part of it. To think that Yen Sid had once upon a time been planning to take him away and give him to another child. Riku didn't think Sora would have lasted the week… but maybe that was just what he wanted to believe. Maybe the truth was that it was Riku who couldn't have lasted without Sora. The thought of it… shredded him inside.

"I'm tired, Sora," he said, voice thick, "and I'm scared."

Sora's response was, _"I won't let you fade away."_

Riku's eyes slid shut. He wished he still knew how to make the same promise back.

He fell asleep in his chair, leaning forward onto the desk, sunshine in a jar clasped close.

.o.O.o.

The next three days were both slow and long, yet somehow over entirely too quickly. Without work to occupy him, Riku felt uneasy and restless, moving from room to room with Sora in hand. He tried to read, tried to watch TV, but in the end nothing could hold his attention for long. He was too busy thinking anxiously about the tests being run back in the restoration chamber, and struggling with Yen Sid's parting words.

 _And, what else?_

He found himself spending a lot of time, oddly enough, outside in the old sandbox. It had fallen into disrepair over the years, much of the sand washed out or blown away through the seasons. There was still enough to sit in, however, bare-footed, the wrinkles of his jeans filling quickly with small, yellow grains, while Sora basked in the sunlight and prattled happily. It was a curious reversal of roles that had Sora the more vocal of the two of them, with Riku occasionally chipping in to keep him going. Sora had turned out to be a regular chatterbox. As he sat there, Riku wondered how he had ever thought to neglect him in the slightest, idiot kid that he'd been at eleven. Now, here he was seven years later, and all he wanted was to turn the clock back. If these were his last days with Sora…

 _"Tired,"_ Sora suddenly said, interrupting himself mid-sentence. He felt the weight inside Riku, and had mistaken it for something else.

"Tired," Riku lied, voice trembling. But was this how he wanted to spend their time before the restoration? Neck-deep in angst and worries, potentially passing that negativity on to Sora? If Sora knew that Riku was afraid, if he could sense his moods this clearly, then what if he started feeling that way, too?

If indeed these were Sora's last days, then Riku wasn't going to let them be spent awash with fears.

With a deep breath, he announced, "Fuck it. I'm going to build you a castle and dig a moat."

 _"Don't let me sink!"_

Turning his pinched expression up to the sky, Riku told him, "Relax, Sora. You won't even get wet."

.o.O.o.

Before he knew it, it was the final night before the restoration. A quick, quiet call to Leon had confirmed that all the tests went perfectly. The method was correct. Nothing would foreseeably go wrong.

Whatever happened next, they had done everything they could, and tried their very best.

Riku's fears hadn't faded. Now, more than ever, they were reaching a fever pitch. He did all he could to keep it from Sora, but they were so closely connected that he was sure that his childhood friend was more subdued in response to the storm inside him.

After Riku had prepared for bed that night, he stood before his desk in loose cotton pants and a t-shirt, staring down at the light-filled jar that he had carried for almost as long as he could remember.

Aware of his attention, Sora said, _"Riku."_

Riku took the jar in his hands, rolling it slowly, watching the way the light inside rhythmically pulsed like the softest of heartbeats. "Sora." He bit the inside of his lip sharply. "You're my best friend," he told the light.

 _"You're my best friend,"_ Sora answered.

Placing him down again, Riku's hands lingered only a moment longer before releasing the jar, turning to his bed, climbing in and pulling the blankets high.

 _And, what else?_

What else?

Staring at the glow of light, he held his breath a long moment, then, almost too quietly to hear, told Sora, "…I love you."

There came no response. But Riku, at least, knew the truth now. This was 'what else'. This was what he'd been working towards. Not just restoring Sora for Sora, but… restoring him for himself, as well. He had gradually been discovering feelings for the boy in the pictures, the soul of whom he'd watched over for so much of his life. There had always been a bond between them, but over recent years it had shifted in Riku's heart, burying deeper than ever, seeping through his entire being.

Riku loved the soul and smile of Sora. If they lost Sora tomorrow, a part of Riku's very heart would dissolve with him, would leave a scar that might never heal. This was nearly paralysing in how frightening it was. Riku wasn't ready for that grief, nor would he ever be. But neither could he hold on to Sora selfishly, keeping him locked away when they finally had a chance to give him his life back. Sora had never been intended to be exclusively Riku's; this project had been in the works from the moment the boy's body had been taken by the darkness.

All Riku could do was take him there in the morning, and… hope. Hope was all he had to keep himself going at this point.

Anything else was beyond his control.

.o.O.o.

Carrying Sora in to Yen Sid's tower was like marching towards death. There was simply nothing that had ever happened to Riku that had been as dread-filled and petrifying as this. Yet, beneath it, anticipation vibrated. The moment he entered the restoration chamber, he felt it humming on the air, that same feeling – and it was then that he realised, at long last, that he wasn't alone in his terror. One look at the faces of the rest of the team told Riku that they had been running the parameters exhaustively to check for errors before subjecting Sora's heart to this. They _all_ knew what the stakes were, and they were all afraid of failing. They had all been losing sleep, all been biting nails, and without exception each one of them had bags under their eyes and a haunted tinge to their expressions.

But underlying it all… hope. This was it. This was the day they found out if it was truly possible to return and heart and soul to a regenerated body, for better or worse, and every one of them was praying for 'better'.

Once Riku entered the room, there was a pause, everyone but Yen Sid and Merlin stopping in their frenetic preparations and last-minute equipment tests to swivel towards him. Him – and Sora.

He had brought Sora in the bag his mother had made when he was a child, not wanting to risk dropping the jar at this point. Reaching into it, Riku slowly drew it out, small gasps leaving his friends' mouths at the sight of the bright glow within. Aerith took a few steps towards him, a hand fluttering to her mouth. "Oh…"

"That's… Sora?" Leon asked.

Riku looked down at the jar, but Sora, even though his name had been spoken, wasn't responding. "I think… he senses something," he said, glancing over at the pod. "He hasn't spoken since we entered the tower."

There was a brief silence, before Cid said, "Well, y'all know what we have to do then. Let's get him back – then we can talk to him all we like."

As one, they all nodded, Riku included. The work continued. Riku lowered Sora's jar gently into the bag, and went in search of Yen Sid. He found the old man and Merlin poring over their magical texts, muttering to each other. At Riku's approach, Yen Sid turned his head a little. "You're here," he observed.

"Sora's gone quiet, Grandfather," Riku said, allowing some of his anxiety to rise to his voice. "I think we need to get this started."

Yen Sid inclined his head. "Merlin and I have been double-checking our spells… but at this point, I suppose it's just nerves." Looking down at the collection of scrolls and scribbled notes, he said, with quiet confidence, "We have done everything correctly. If this does not work, then the task is not possible."

Riku's grip tightened on the bag. Yen Sid straightened from the desk and folded his hands together within his voluminous sleeves. His kindly gaze finding his grandson, he bowed slowly to Riku. "My boy, you exceeded my expectations. We, and Sora, have been lucky to have you with us. Now – let us see the fruits of our labour, at long last, and return your best friend to this world."

Handing Sora over was the hardest thing Riku had ever had to do. He had spent long blocks of time away from Sora, especially of late, but he had never felt a distance between them that gaped as it did now. Before Yen Sid could draw away, Riku cried, voice strained, _"Wait!"_ He grabbed for the bag, pushing it open to look down at the glowing jar within. "Sora," he said, with gentle urgency, "Sora, something big is happening, and I don't know if you find this scary and that's why you've stopped responding, but… whatever happens, I'll be here. Okay? I'll be waiting for you at the other end. You're not doing this alone. You don't have to be afraid."

When Sora failed to respond after several moments, Yen Sid carefully pulled the bag away. "I'm sure your words reached him," he said softly. Riku swallowed and nodded, hands forming fists at his side. Yen Sid swept along through the laboratory with Merlin close behind, Riku trailing, his eyes never leaving Sora's bag. "All right," the old man announced, voice ringing in the metallic space. "That's enough. We have run every conceivable trial. Is the machinery operative?"

"Sure is, boss." Cid gave a loose, two-fingered salute. "Good as new, the whole lot."

"And the programming?" Yen Sid demanded, turning to Leon.

"Everything is set," the man responded, his tension evident in the stony set of his face and the stiffness of his shoulders.

Yen Sid's eyes passed over them one by one, taking in the strain on each face, combined with raw hope. "…After eleven years," the old man said, "it is finally time." There was – _so_ much else to say, Riku could see it all running through Yen Sid's head, yet in the end, he could stand here giving speeches til the sun went down, but they all already knew it all. Nobody needed to be told anything.

"Begin," Yen Sid said, his hushed command hanging in the air, Leon's hand moving to the control panel, where it hesitated.

"Riku." The boy blinked as Leon spoke his name, gaze intent upon him. "Would you like to do the honours?" He indicated the controls, ready to step aside. Riku's eyes widened, his heart jolting in his chest. But when he thought about it… No. He couldn't do it. He shook his head, well aware that it was cowardice that stayed him, but… if Sora didn't survive this, in whichever form he took, Riku didn't want his memory of it to be his own hand on the master button.

Leon nodded his understanding, and without further delay primed the main switch, glanced at Yen Sid one final time for confirmation, then triggered the restoration.

The true restoration.

The machinery rumbled as the computer set the process going, performing thousands of calculations per second and sending them to the pod in the middle of the room. The pod was programmed to interact with Sora's heart, essentially writing him as data into the walls, using the heart as a focal point. Meanwhile, the blue and green fluids travelled through thick tubes around the laboratory, passing through various chambers where they encountered magical deposits and underwent chemical transformation before continuing on. When the fluids reached the pod, they poured into it, the clear shell slowly filling, turning a thick, dark blue as they reacted to one another.

As the pod steadily filled higher and higher, the viscosity reaching for the heart that glinted within, Yen Sid approached, lowered himself onto one knee, and removed the jar containing Sora's soul from the bag. Riku started forward automatically, a strong hand pressing against his chest to stop him – head whipping sideways, he found Cloud at his side, the man shaking his head minutely at him. Turning back to Yen Sid, Riku's teeth grated together at the sight of the old man inserting the jar into the base of the pod, twisting it at the last moment to loosen the lid, which hadn't shifted once in eleven years, before touching a button to make the pod's solid, white panels start to rise. They closed over the shell just as the liquid within was coming level with Sora's heart…

…and with a low, loud sound, the panels slid shut, interlocking firmly.

Yen Sid seemed to be counting inside his head. After an interminable silence, he raised a hand and ordered, "Now. Finish it."

Leon rapidly tapped the final commands into the control panel, and executed them. There was a low hum from the pod – then a bright, sharp flash of light that made everyone blink, a split second of time seared onto their retinas.

Everything stopped. The liquid ceased to flow through the tubes, the tanks sitting half-empty. The machines fell quiet. Riku's fingernails pierced the flesh of his palms, his heart pounding deafeningly in his ears. His whole body, numb by now, seemed to pulse with it. He could scarcely draw a breath.

Stepping back, Yen Sid studied the closed pod, as they all watched on. Eventually, he said, "Open the outer layer."

Leon rapidly complied, entering the command into the control panel, the pod's panels lowering again, hanging towards the floor and stopping. The shell within was filled to the top with the dark blue fluid, and, it seemed, that was it. There was no – glow, no light, no indication of Sora's heart… _no sign of his soul._

Riku felt himself starting to shudder, body out of his control now, hands shaking, knees quivering, muscles twitching and jumping. He couldn't – inhale. Blue, nothing but blue – just thick, dark liquid with nothing stirring within. And Sora? Where was Sora?

 _Where was Sora?_

Cloud's hand, having shifted to his shoulder, squeezed tight, whether he realised it or not being another matter entirely. The man's grip was like a vice. In pure silence, they all stood there, staring endlessly at the pod, in varying states of haggard anticipation. Yen Sid was circling the pod, as if trying to find a different angle to view it from that would show… _something._ Anything. Any part of Sora.

Anything that didn't turn this whole thing into a nightmare.

Then, suddenly, there was a surge within the deep blue, and a hand slammed flat against the inside of the shell. Everyone leapt and started moving at once, Riku lunging forward as Yen Sid stepped back and called, _"Drain the shell!"_

Leon's hands flew across the control panel, the tubes connected to the bottom of the pod starting to suction the fluid out. "Faster!" Riku commanded, hovering at the edge of the shell. Turning, he barked, _"Faster,_ Leon! He'll drown!"

The hand within the shell slid across the hard surface, seeking release, followed by a second hand, a fist, trying to pound against the barrier.

"This is as fast as it goes," Leon responded with frustration. Riku pressed his hands to the outside of the shell, frantic for the body inside, for aching lungs.

"Come on," he muttered, staring desperately at the lowering line of the fluid. As it dropped, a shape emerged: a head, at first, hair plastered down by thick blue matter, a face that turned up into the new space and seemed to gasp, but found little in the way of fresh oxygen, due to the shell being airtight.

Riku bellowed over his shoulder, _"Come on!"_

Yen Sid snapped, "Merlin, with me!" and the two old men moved forward, raising their hands for a poised moment, then lowering them with purpose. The liquid in the shell started moving faster, forced down into the tubes by magical energy. The figure within sank along with it, evidently unable to stand without the fluid buoying it.

"Leon, that's enough!" Yen Sid cried. "Open the shell!"

Moments later, the shell finally cracked apart, splitting in half, a gush of blue splashing out of it onto the metal floor. The front of it lowered towards the floor, the body within rolling down the sudden decline. Riku was there in a heartbeat, catching it before it could slither out. He clutched it tight, trying to keep his balance on the slippery ground. When his feet threatened to slide right out from under him, he instead simply lowered to his knees, pulling the body with him, onto his lap.

Cradling it in his arms, he felt it twitch and gasp, a mouth opening in amongst the adhering goop to cough for air. Riku pushed a hand across the obscured face, wiping away what he could… and there, struggling to catch his breath, was Sora. His eyes were stuck shut, his expression twisted, but there was no doubt about it.

The restoration was successful.

Riku held Sora tightly, almost unable to believe it. _Sora, Sora, Sora, Sora –_ every part of him seemed to sing. His heart could have burst.

After eleven years of effort and care, Sora was returned to life.

.o.O.o.

For Sora, existence had been a long, hazy dream.

He had an impression, somewhere in his consciousness, of shadows – of a foot slipping, and something large and smothering reaching out to consume him. But it had been so brief, like a breath blowing out a candle flame. After that…

After that, there had been silence for a while. He had drifted, connected to nothing, knowing nothing, a single disembodied speck with no being, no awareness.

Then, something warm had touched him – something inquisitive. In the midst of darkness, a light had awakened, and Sora heard the words that began a universe: _"Doesn't sunshine belong in the sky?"_

 _Sunshine…_

Sora remembered sunshine.

 _"I trust you, Riku."_

Riku? What was that? A name? A place? Was it sunshine?

Sora reached out towards the light, a single thread that longed to find an anchor. He brushed against a consciousness that was not his own, and wondered, "Riku?" The consciousness stirred, sought him, and for a moment, they seemed to regard one another across a gulf. Sora whispered, losing certainty, losing… self… that word that he didn't know, one last time. "Riku…"

And that's when he heard a voice. _"Hello? My name is Riku."_

In a rush, the warmth blazed through Sora again, direct, gentle, curious, and, at long last, he knew something.

He knew 'Riku'. And in knowing Riku, he knew himself. _Sora._ Where he had been a nothing, now he was a something. He knew existence.

He listened keenly, from then on, for Riku, at all times, and Riku was never far away. Their minds touched again and again, Sora slowly learning, awareness swelling little by little. The dream continued, endless and soft, but at no point did Sora feel afraid, or alone, because Riku would always come and speak his name, and remind him, all over again, that he was Sora, and Riku was Riku.

He did, at one point, feel an edge of coldness insert itself between the two of them, and during that time Riku was heard only at a distance. Throughout this period, Sora simply waited. He knew, by now, the measure of the heart that was his constant companion, and knew, without wondering, that the warmth would return. And it did; when the waiting was over, Riku was near again, his voice in Sora's consciousness loud again, all-encompassing again. Riku, who was the universe, who was knowledge, who was a 'best friend' and wouldn't let Sora sink, or fade, would never let the cold arise again.

Once more, the dream went on. Sora hung in place, suspended in emptiness yet full on the inside, aware that darkness existed but that it couldn't claim him, because the light that was Riku was always close at hand. Even when Riku's presence started to shift and change, even when the light changed with him, dimming yet somehow becoming more powerful, Sora knew he was there, and that he was safe.

As the dream progressed, though, Riku's voice became patchy – fading in and out, Sora sometimes flickering, hearing Riku as if through a tunnel. There were times… when he couldn't feel Riku at all, and something cold seemed to sniff its way closer to where he hung. Riku's voice would inevitably break through again, coax him back towards the light, and Sora would forget, for a while, that the darkness was seeking. He would bask in Riku, and know himself. But that shadow was there, hovering in the background, seeming to wait for him as he had once waited for Riku – with a sense of inevitability.

Then came the time when Riku was hardly near at all, and Sora almost came to know loneliness. Had it not been that when Riku did return to him, it was always with a burst of some emotion that Sora could not identify but which cradled him nonetheless, creating something akin to joy within him, he might have, around this time, drifted away. He felt it – the effort required to remain with Riku. He felt it developing the longer the dream stretched on, as if at some point it might end, and Riku's voice would be gone forever. Sora resisted, but as the effort to stay grew more demanding, so too did his ability to remain start to waver. He could… _feel…_ the end of the dream. It stood somewhere in the distance. If Sora allowed it, it could have occurred at any moment.

But – Riku.

He didn't want to forget Riku, and return the emptiness that had existed before Riku's voice. He didn't want the world to change

But then… the world changed anyway. The world was changed for him. He heard Riku's voice twice, just before the end: the first time, it was to utter words that Sora failed to comprehend. _"I love you."_ Sora couldn't figure this out, and so said nothing. He did not know the word 'love'. He knew of 'best friends', he knew of 'fading' and 'sinking', he knew of 'Grandfather Yen Sid' and a whole host of other words, names, and things connected to the warmth and the light – but 'love' was new. It sat like a rock inside Sora's consciousness, as something that he was certain he had known, once upon a time, but could no longer find within himself.

The second time Riku spoke before the end, it was to break through a terrible crushing weight that had come over Sora. He knew not where it came from, or why, but it felt like being torn apart. It took every ounce of his energy to hold his being together. Every second was a struggle that seemed to last an eternity, and within it, Sora knew fear, because he couldn't sense Riku anymore. He wondered, at this time, if Riku had abandoned him, if the cold that had once existed had split them apart. Sora wondered, for the first time, if Riku was lost to him, and darkness had won.

But then Riku broke through, one final time, voice weak and distant, and told him, _"You're not doing this alone. You don't have to be afraid."_

And so, Sora listened, and didn't fear. If Riku told him he wasn't alone, then he wasn't alone.

With that, the universe ended, and was reborn.

For several days, the dream seemed to continue – he knew haziness, he knew disconnection, he knew confusion. Not only that, but Riku's voice was there, making Sora wonder if anything had changed, after all. But Riku was different, somehow, now; his voice was clearer, and while it didn't connect with Sora's mind and appear to him as a light anymore, it did start a heat in his chest, a strange throbbing that he had forgotten entirely until now. _Heart,_ his mind whispered to itself. When he felt pain, in his head and in his throat, it told him, _body._ Body – he remembered what a body was. He remembered flesh, and fingers, and toes, and hair, and eyes, and shoulders. He remembered slipping on a crumbling edge and falling into darkness. He remembered dreaming.

Bit by bit, Sora climbed the layers of his consciousness, remembering, with each plateau, just how it all worked. Remembering that existence was more than a dream.

At the second to last layer, Riku's voice became like a beacon, a constant drone in the background, saying words Sora didn't quite understand but providing a point of reference, so that he knew up from down, inside from outside, knew that he was sleeping but no longer dreaming, knew that wakefulness was within reach.

And, at long last, he knew what Riku had meant when he'd spoken of love.

With a breath, Sora opened his eyes, and found himself in bed in a small, circular room. He saw a window, through which the sun was setting, sending piercing light through the glass panes. When Sora followed the light with his eyes, turning his head slowly, he found that it stopped on a long-haired figure on a chair beside his bed, a young man with his eyes cast down onto a book, from which he read aloud, without much expression but with a sense of determination, as if he would not stop until he had run out of pages. The sunshine looked warm against his skin.

Clumsily, feeling like it was the first time in a very long time that he was doing so, Sora moved his hand, creeping it along the blanket, the motion catching the young man's attention from the corner of his eye. He turned his face to Sora, expression freezing, the words dying in his throat. His eyes were wide, and lovely. He was the first person in Sora's universe twice now, once by sound, once by sight.

His hand completed its trek across the bed, reaching out towards the boy, who, with a stricken expression, extended a hand of his own, holding Sora's tightly. He seemed unable, now that he had stopped reading, to find the words to say out loud, but after so long of listening to Riku, so long of dreaming, Sora felt that it was his turn, anyway.

The first words that Sora spoke into the new universe were, "I love you, too."

And, at long last, rather than feeling the warmth of Riku's voice, he was now able to know the soaring joy of seeing him smile.


	7. Siren Pt 1

Prompt: Siren  
Main pairing: AkuRoku  
Rating: M  
Word count: 6,973  
AO3 collection: /collections/AkuRokuRiSo_Month  
Provided By: cameoamalthea (tumblr)

.o.O.o.

With the distant crashing of turbulent waves resonating in his head, Axel's eyes cracked slowly open. The blackness that greeted him might have put him in doubt as to whether he had regained consciousness, were it not for the fact that he was frozen stiff, little flecks of sea spray hitting his upturned face like stinging fragments of glass, and the horrendous pounding that his heartbeat set pulsing through every inch of him.

A groan more like a whisper clawed its way from his throat, his limbs heavy and rigid with the cold, which reached right through him, a special agony of its own. He tried to move, but all this did was awaken pain that had been lying dormant, pulling a small, weak cry from his lips.

Blinking through the perpetual mist of spray, with blossoming fear and apprehension, he tried to ascertain where he was, but the gloom made this next to impossible. He was becoming gradually aware that the ground beneath him was – sharp in places, uncomfortably hard… _rocky._ He was somewhere dark and stone-strewn, with the ocean booming not far away. But how had he come to be here? And where – was the ship? The rest of the men? His memory was foggy, slow to return; he couldn't grasp the reasoning behind his being in this unfamiliar place. But it didn't bode well – he knew that much, at least.

Swallowing weakly, he parted his lips, gathered what breath he could, and attempted to call out: "Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?" He heard a scrabbling sound, and with a prickle of hope, rasped, "Who is that? I'm here! I am –"

He was silenced by a hand clamping sharply over his mouth. He recoiled at the cold of its touch, an alien roughness scratching at his skin. When a monstrous visage thrust itself into his line of vision a moment later, his yell of fearful surprise was cut short by the claws of the creature digging warningly into the flesh of his cheeks. In the darkness, all he could see was a shine of eyes, the misshapen silhouette of a head, and the glint of sharp teeth as the being parted its lips to hiss, _"Hsst!"_ Axel gave a series of panicked noises, the creature pressing its face closer to his own, this time raising a finger to its lips and again whispering, more fiercely, _"Hssst!"_

It occurred to Axel, with a burst of horrified wonder, that the monster was trying to communicate with him – was commanding his silence. He went still, bewildered and afraid. Why would such a creature be encouraging his cooperation like this, instead of just killing him? What was nearby that might hear him, and why did it not want him heard?

As if in answer to these questions, he heard the echo of scraping steps a short distance away, and stiffened. Eyes wide in the gloom, he stared up at the creature's face, barely visible in the negligent light. What little illumination that allowed him to see as much as he did had to be the faintest reflection of moonlight, wherever it was that it was entering from. But where _was_ he? What was happening?

Hunched over his supine form, the creature tensed at the sound of the steps, staring down at him with the finger still pressed insistently over its lips, not that Axel could have done more than continue grunting with its other hand still hard over his mouth.

Then, making both of them flinch, a voice called through the darkness: "Hellooooo?"

It was a strange, grating sound, thoroughly inhuman, and – _predatory_. Axel shivered, the cold having nothing to do with it. When the creature above him didn't move or respond, their mutual silence continuing, the voice came again, but this time… oh, this time, it was like an angel had descended from the heavens.

 _"Hello?"_ That warm, loving word echoed to him, and Axel's soul seemed to soar. His heart melted, his fears vanishing in an instant, a wonderful, shining emotion welling up from deep within. Oh, this feeling – this magnificent, euphoric sense of being adored, of knowing that the warmest, most lovely place in all of existence lay in the arms of whomsoever was the possessor of that voice. He yearned to answer, to remove this monster's hand from his face and go to the embrace of that glorious, pure-hearted, divine being.

He reached up with determined hands to try and pry the creature off of him. Noticing the shift in him, the monster swiftly turned its head and called, "It's me!"

And, all at once, the feeling was gone, dissolved, as the owner of the other voice reverted to its former growling timbre. "Oh. Roxas? What are you doing?"

Axel was back to shuddering, overcome with revulsion at what he had just experienced. The creature above him lowered itself to his ear, and as Axel prepared to start a panicked struggle, it whispered to him, "She will kill you if she finds you here. For your own sake, mortal, stay in place and remain _silent."_

Then, after the briefest of pauses to make sure he had heard it, the monster… released him. It rose to its feet and left him lying there, Axel able to hear the two beings conversing several moments later.

"Hello, Larxene."

In a state of shock, Axel remained where he was, listening to them speak, voices thin and rough.

"Roxas, what were you doing in there?" That – that was the voice of the one that had called to him. Axel recognised it easily. Had it truly also been the same creature that had sounded so angelic? How could that possibly be?

"I thought I heard something in the cave," the one that had silenced him – Roxas, was it called? – said dismissively. "But it was nothing but debris drifting along the inlet."

"Hnnn."

Axel experienced a moment of the most pure terror he had ever known, listening to the monster consider the lie.

Then, there came a disgruntled, "Very well. I was hoping it was one of the missing crewmembers. I'm sure I saw one with bright red hair before their ship hit the rocks – I want to know what his flesh tastes like. Does the red make it different? I want to _know!"_ The creature snarled this last part, as though in a temper, impatient at the elusiveness of its quarry. Had Axel not been frozen by his fear, he might have moaned aloud.

"He will wash ashore – they always do," the other monster told her calmly. "We will continue searching."

"I want the red-haired one!"

"And so you shall have him!" Roxas snarled. "No one is interested in wresting the red-haired one from you, Larxene!"

"They had best not." This came as almost a mutter. Then, their voices growing distant, the two monsters left Axel's hiding place, and soon there was only the sound of the ocean again, the waves shattering against cliffs and rocks, which he was only now dimly starting to recall.

Yes, there had been – an island, a blot of land surrounded by sharp rocks and sheer cliffs, and they had been skirting around it. The weather was inclement, so they had been hoping for a place to weigh anchor and wait the night out, but upon seeing how dangerous the coast was, the captain had decided against it and they were going to leave. They had been _leaving…_ and then – something. Axel still couldn't grasp quite what, but _something_ had happened, and now – now it seemed they had become shipwrecked.

Lifting his head, straining to peer around with eyes slightly more accustomed to the deep darkness, Axel was able to discern that he was in a cave of some sort. There was, as the monster who had found him had said, a narrow inlet running through it, choppy from the weather, sending up the spray that continued to soak his already thoroughly wet, chilled body. He ached in all places, especially his head, but now was not the time to indulge such grievances, for two very grave reasons.

Firstly, if the ship had smashed on the rocks surrounding the island, then Axel's crewmates would likely be in dire trouble, those who had survived the initial sinking. How _he_ had managed to, he didn't know – it was nothing short of a miracle. He must have somehow been snatched up by a current that brought him to the inlet and then ashore in this cave.

The second thing was the most frightening, however, and that was that they appeared to have been wrecked on an island which hosted _monsters._ Monsters which… which _ate human flesh._ That creature, the one called Larxene, had been so insistent upon 'the red-haired one', and that could only be Axel himself. His colouring was unusual no matter where he went, and he was definitely the only one aboard the ship with such an appearance. He was in no doubt that the monster had spoken of wanting to – to _taste his flesh._

His shuddering intensified. One thing Axel knew for certain, the _only_ thing he knew, was that he needed to escape. Now. Even if the one monster had been fooled, there was still another who knew he was here, and it could return at any moment. Why had it lied for him? Did it want to taste him for itself? Was it planning to eat him and did not want to share?

…He had to get away from here.

With a great mustering of what little strength he had, fuelled no doubt by the threat to his life, Axel ignored the stabbing pains of his flesh and forced his rigid limbs to move. He rolled with effort onto his stomach, pushing to his hands and knees, and, breathing laboured but only slightly light-headed, finally struggled to his feet. Though he swayed at first, and his steps were uneven, Axel found himself capable of walking.

He staggered first as far as he could away from the exit the monsters had left from. He ran out of ground entirely too soon, however, finding that this 'cave' was little more than a hollow in the cliff-side; he stood upon a rocky shelf that ran through it, staring down at water as black as pitch that lapped and lashed at the outcropping. The only way out from this side of the cave was to plunge into the sea, and that would kill him all too surely. He was in no condition to swim – and where would he even have swum to? He was trapped on the island for now, at least until he and some shipmates managed to lash a raft together and push away from this hellish place.

Reluctantly, Axel turned and went back, aiming now for the end of the cave the monsters had left by. Having no way of knowing when the first creature would come back, and having wasted a little time venturing to the other end of the cave, he had no luxury to hesitate. He paused at the entrance, peering owlishly into the gloom, but with most of the moon's light blotted from view by thick, crowding clouds, he could only listen and look as best as he could before escaping into the dark.

With a persistent drizzle of rain scattering over the island, Axel found no reprieve from the cold as he squinted and forged his way through an overgrown forest, leaving the inlet behind and hoping that this would help place some distance between him and the creatures who would be scouring the shores for signs of bodies or survivors. Though it tore at his heart to not go searching for his crewmates straight away, he knew it was vital that he find somewhere safe to rest and recover before he attempted to navigate this unfamiliar island and its bloodthirsty inhabitants and have a hope of making it out alive.

His hands outstretched, feeling his way through the dense forestation and thick swathes of hanging vines, Axel moved blindly, hoping to encounter a shelter of sorts – a hollow tree, some thick foliage, _anything_ – in which he might be able to hunker down for the remainder of the night. Surely with dawn's light he would have a better chance of making sense of all this… and perhaps such wicked creatures as those who had plans to devour him and his crew would not be able to stand the light. Surely such base beasts were able to only move about in the dead of night.

When the ground opened up beneath Axel, it was without a single sound that he dropped, tumbling down an embankment that in the darkness had been hidden. Like a rag doll, he crashed into the brush at the base of the hill, dazed and bloody. Though he did not lose consciousness, he was unable to rouse himself from his stunned state, the various blows to his body and head exacerbating that which the shipwreck had likely already caused. For a long time, he lay there, lacking the energy to stir himself, and incapable of collecting his wits enough even to agitate over his fate.

At some point, after an indeterminate passage of time, he heard the sounds of someone approaching, someone, or something, crunching through the undergrowth. The weather had eased somewhat by now, the rain having long turned the ground into thick, sticky mud, and so he heard their coming clearly through the fresh hush of the night. Eventually, whoever they were discovered him in his ravaged state, but Axel could only stare dumbly through half-lidded eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly as he lay sprawled in the mud, ensnared by the bushes. He couldn't make out the features of the person who had come to him, but closed his eyes, just in case it did turn out to be a monster come to strip him to his bones. If he was going to die here, he didn't want to see it coming, see the hunger in the face of his attacker.

When the agony of being eaten alive didn't immediately occur, he wondered who it was; once he had closed his eyes, however, opening them back up again turned out to be too great a task. He was exhausted, and may have slept, though he was aware that someone had picked him up with unnaturally strong arms and was taking him somewhere.

When next Axel opened his eyes, he was on his side, arms bunched in front of his chest, cheek flat to the dirt. But – the dirt was dry. That was an improvement. Some of the bitter cold had left his skin, as well. When he shifted, he felt his fingers come into contact with – a blanket? He lifted his head slowly, looking down at himself. He had been covered while he slept, and, he belatedly realised, his clothes had been removed. His pulse quickened at this; what person had taken his _clothes?_ Who had found him? And where was he _now?_

Fortunately, there was a lantern burning nearby. He was not forced to endure the pitch black again. He glanced about, and realised that the walls around him were made of wood; not in the manner of a house with walls, but – trees, twisted together so tightly that they blocked out all sign of the elements and sight of the sky. They formed a lumpy-walled space into which perhaps five men could fit, though Axel was, at the moment, quite alone. He stared, first at his enclosure, then over at the lantern. It was of curious design, old fashioned, with one pane of its glass case missing. Fortunately, due to some thick sort of fabric covering what was evidently the entrance to this hidey-hole, there was no disturbance in the air to blow the flame out.

Carefully, feeling the aches of his body coming to life bit by bit, Axel moved to sit up. As soon as he shifted his left leg, however, he hissed with pain and stopped sharply. With building dread, he reached down and tugged the blanket back from his legs, eyes slipping shut with distress at the sight that greeted him. His ankle was in a terrible state, swollen to at least twice its size and deeply bruised. The swelling had travelled halfway up his calf, and any attempt to move it resulted in stabbing pain.

This was… a very bad situation. He must have injured himself in the tumble down the hill. He cursed himself for not having taken more care, then looked around again, helplessly now, wondering who on earth his saviour was. _Someone_ had found him out there, and brought him to this secluded place. That same someone had removed his cold, wet clothes and covered him with a blanket. Wherever they were now, they had left him a light to see by. Perhaps it was a member of the ship's crew, still able to move around. In which case, it was almost impossible good fortune that had led Axel to him, even if he had ended up hurt for his troubles. He only hoped that this injury with his ankle wouldn't slow down an attempt to escape the island. He wouldn't be of much use until it had healed at least enough to stand on.

It wasn't long before he heard someone approaching, whoever his rescuer was, no doubt; they must have only ventured out for a short while. Certainly with monsters roaming about, they couldn't risk being outside for long. With hope in his heart, Axel sat up, holding the blanket close, eager to find out who of his fellow crewmembers had survived – but the being that pushed through the thick covering over the entrance was anything but.

The gasp caught in Axel's throat as the monster stepped into the light. The fabric – which Axel now realised, after hearing it rustle and seeing it move, was part of a sail from a ship – dropped back into place, the creature pausing at the sight of him sitting up. Axel, for his part, was momentarily paralysed, unable to stop staring. The monster was more or less the size of a man, slender, and could perhaps have been mistaken for one if not for the feathers that lined its pointed ears and ran down its neck, or the scales that roughened its long hands, at the ends of which resided talon-like nails. Besides that, it appeared mostly human. The feathers provided a fluffiness of sorts across its shoulders, delving down its back before tapering off to descend down the line of its spine, which Axel noticed as it turned to ensure that the sail was completely blocking the opening it had come through, pushing parts of it into cracks in the tree, as though making sure that none of the light from the lantern could bleed out to the world beyond. A loose pair of cotton pants clothed its lower half, sitting low on its hips and ending mid-calf, secured by a clumsily-tied drawstring. The pants looked like they were made for someone at least a size wider, and were torn in places, and dirty.

When it turned to him, Axel was struck by the alien quality of its face. It was oddly beautiful at first glance, especially with the feathers that framed it, but its lips protruded slightly from its teeth, as though they were large, and its pupils were lightly narrowed, like a cat's. It had spiky, unruly hair almost yellow in its blondness, and bright blue eyes. It stared at him a moment, just as he stared at it, then took a step towards him. Axel's whole body flinched back, even as he called upon all his false bravado and commanded, "Stay back! Don't come near me, beast!"

The creature's eyes narrowed. It parted its lips to speak, and, heaven help him, Axel saw that its teeth were indeed larger than was normal, and pointed. He knew, all at once, that this was the same monster from the cave. "Keep your voice low," it told him, "unless you would be someone's dinner."

"Am I not to be yours?" Axel bitterly shot back, well aware that he was highly unlikely to escape this time, considering the state of his ankle.

The creature eyed him oddly, then answered, "In fact, no. If I had been going to eat you, I would have done so when first I found you. But I do not eat the living." It then bent low, and let tumble from one curled arm several pieces of fruit. They rolled through the dirt towards Axel. "I hadn't time to fetch you fresh water, but there are juices aplenty in these to slake your thirst for now. Enjoy them at your leisure." It spoke with – surprising sophistication. Although its voice was rough and throaty, it was not the grunting, slavering abomination he would have expected.

For a long minute, Axel stared down at the fruits. Then, he lifted his gaze to the monster, which was settling into a cross-legged position a short distance from the lantern, blocking the way out but making no move towards aggression as it simply folded its arms over its chest.

At long last, he warily asked, "What is this?"

The creature asked him, "What is what?"

Changing tack, Axel instead demanded, "Where are my clothes?"

"I took them," the monster told him, "and threw them into the ocean. They were scented with your blood, which you had been tracking through the forest. Any of the others could have easily found you, just as I did. You are lucky," it added grimly, "that it was me. You are lucky that I was already searching for you. I told you to stay where you were."

Angrily, voice rising, Axel retorted, "You would expect me to remain in place with _monsters_ roaming about?" He was stopped there by a glare from the creature, and a return of its finger to its lips – the same gesture from the cave.

"You don't want my cousins to find you, mortal," it quietly warned. "They would pull you to pieces and feast upon your blood." Axel's mouth snapped shut so hard he felt his teeth click together. "I had to work hard to get to you before anyone else," it continued, its gaze fixed unnervingly upon him, "and would appreciate that you not undercut that effort through being too _noisy."_

Sullenly, Axel looked away, hunching his shoulders. "How can I know you won't do the same? Perhaps you're simply keeping me for later."

It scowled. "I am the one that saved you from the waves." Axel blinked with surprise, eyes darting back to the creature, as it continued, "I am the one who kept Larxene from you in the cave. I am the one who tracked your scent through the forest, fetched you from the bushes, and brought you to safety. I have given you food, given you firelight, since you wretched humans crave it so – yet even now, you suspect me of treachery?"

"You're a monster," Axel defiantly declared, though he trembled as he did so.

"I am what the gods made me," it returned, with dignity, "and I am not a monster. I am Roxas."

"Well, you _look_ like a monster," Axel stubbornly shot back, "and you _sound_ like a monster." This entire time, its grating voice had been teasing his nerves tighter and tighter. Even when it spoke softly, the harshness of it made his spine tingle.

When next it opened its mouth, however, everything changed.

Axel felt his spirit _soar_ as it gently asked, _"Are you sure about that?"_ That voice – it was honeyed, and calm, and so soothing it was like being enveloped in warm water. _"I want only to aid you, mortal,"_ it went on, and Axel found himself nodding dreamily, awash in pleasant feelings. _"I have saved you. I have cared for you. Are you not grateful?"_

"I am," Axel replied, almost a groan in his voice in his desperation to convey his sudden thankfulness. It smiled at him, but its teeth didn't seem so worrying anymore. Axel could hardly recall why he had been so suspicious of it in the first place. Of _Roxas._ Not an it, but a _him._ A heavenly him, celestial being, Axel feeling a deep devotion blossom in his chest for him. He went to move towards Roxas, filled with the desire to be near him, to touch him, but the feathered being forestalled him by shifting first, crawling over and taking Axel by the shoulders, easing him carefully to the ground.

 _"Don't move,"_ Roxas urged him sweetly, _"or you'll hurt your leg further. It needs rest. You need rest. And when you are hungry, you must eat, to keep your strength up."_ As Axel again nodded, Roxas asked, _"What is your name, mortal?"_

"Axel," he distractedly replied, conscious of its hands upon him, smoothing the blanket over his bare body.

 _"Axel,"_ the being echoed, in a caressing murmur. Then, into his ear, it rasped, "If I wanted to eat you, I wouldn't need to worry about you getting away. I could keep you a slave all your life, however long that might be, and you would _thank_ me, as I took the first bite of your living flesh, for the time we spent together."

As Axel turned cold, the spell broken, it pulled away. It returned to its previous position as the huddled man began, all over again, to shudder. "H-how did you do that?" he asked at length, between clenched teeth. His skin crawled with the memory of how glad he'd been to have the creature touching him.

"I am a Siren," Roxas replied, and Axel thought, for a moment, that he detected a note of weariness in its voice. "Our voices give us ultimate power over mortal men. We called you to our rocky shores, and even now my cousins feast upon your fallen comrades. You were the only one I could rescue. You are, very likely, the only one left."

Axel's eyes squeezed shut at such devastating words, but didn't question the verity of them. He had heard the monster Larxene talking of eating his flesh – it came as little surprise to learn that that was the fate of his comrades. But even so, it was with flashing eyes and a quavering voice that he desperately declared, "Some of them may live! We are not so easily killed!"

It was almost with sadness that Roxas regarded him now, replying, "But, you are."

And Axel looked at the sail covering the entrance, and the lantern with its missing pane that lit this space, and knew in his heart that theirs was far from the first ship to have washed onto these shores. He buried his head under the blanket, curled himself into a ball, and, for a while, hid from the terrible island with all the effectiveness of a child fleeing a nightmare.

.o.O.o.

After an interminable night, morning broke, Axel aware of it as the sound of birdsong slowly filled the air. The creature, Roxas, peered carefully through a gap it made in the sail covering the tree-room's entrance.

"Dawn is here," it murmured. Turning to Axel, who watched from a hole in his blanket, it said, "I must depart. My cousins will question if I am absent too long. But I will return, Axel, and bring more supplies with me when I do."

Axel swallowed, biting back a shudder at the sound of his name being spoken by such a coarse voice. He had to ask, "Why are you doing this? Why protect me at all?"

The creature eyed him, and for a long moment didn't answer. Eventually, it said, "You still live. I would not see you murdered when you have survived thus far." Bewildered, Axel shook his head, uncomprehending of such a reply. Had these creatures not lured the ship to their shores in the first place? "I cannot linger," Roxas told him. "Remain in place, and make sure this time that you do. You are not safe on this island."

As it prepared to leave, Axel pushed himself up, the blanket sliding to his waist, demanding, with some alarm, "For how long? How long do you intend to keep me here?"

Roxas paused, sent him a long look, its gaze wavering, for a moment, down to his bare chest. Then it said, "You are here only until your leg is healed. Then I will secure your passage off this island by a vessel of some sort. I promise you this… Axel."

Again, his name, and it seemed as though the monster savoured saying it. Then, before he could think to argue or question it further, Roxas pushed through the sail, and was gone. Axel listened to its footsteps grow gradually quieter, before only the sounds of the forest itself were left.

He stared at the covered entrance, then over at the lantern, which continued to burn with a low flame. Perhaps this was his chance for fleeing; he could use the lantern to set fire to this shelter, then while the beasts were distracted he might make his way to the shore and look for survivors. With anyone who might be left – he refused to consider the possibility that he was the last – they could make their escape from this wretched place.

But… his leg. He tugged back the blanket, sitting wincingly, and gingerly ran his fingers along the swelling. It was thicker even than it had been during the night, with a ring of purple around the ankle, descending down the outer edge of his foot. Thoughts of escape would do him no good in this condition. The creature had been correct enough about his staying until the injury had healed. With a sigh, he cast his gaze around the small space before stopping at the fruit. During the night, he had not touched the pieces, untrusting of the monster which had brought them. But now he found himself with a hunger that gnawed at his insides, and no immediate way of fending for himself. If he did not eat what the creature brought, then he would not eat.

But… even so…

He turned away with a pained expression. What if they were toxic? Perhaps the monster was squeamish about killing its own meat, and plotted to allow him to do it to himself. He couldn't trust it. Instead, he turned over onto his side, gathering the blanket close again, and tried to ignore the persistent pangs in his stomach. He would not march obediently to his death.

The hours passed with agonising slowness. Every stray noise outside had Axel on edge, listening as hard as he could for signs that it was one of the monsters approaching. At some point, the fuel in the lantern ran dry, and the flame went from guttering, to a pinprick, to gone. The gloom was almost welcome; it was easier to close his eyes and try to forget where he was with darkness around him.

He had been shallowly dozing when a sharp _crack_ flung his eyes open, just one in a series of approaching sounds – definitely footsteps. Something was coming. He sat up and snatched up the cold lantern, shifting back until his spine was against rough tree bark, gaze fixed on the entrance. If anything came through that sail that wasn't Roxas – and even if it was Roxas, depending on how the creature approached – he had only the feeble weapon of the lantern with which to save himself. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, his heart thundering with almost deafening demand.

The steps grew nearer, until they were right outside, at which point they stopped – and nothing happened. Axel's breaths came quickly, eyes wide in the darkness, his grip on the lantern tightening. Then the sail shifted, and one of the creatures came through, Axel instinctively winding back and hurling the lantern towards its head with a grunt. Silhouetted briefly by the dying sunlight of the world beyond, the figure twisted to avoid the projectile, the lantern slamming against the sail and dropping to the ground, where, with a high tinkle, one of its panes broke into pieces.

There was a stunned moment into which Axel panted and the creature stood stock still, then a loud rustle as the sail was pinned back into place, darkness engulfing them once again. "It is I!" Roxas announced with quiet anger. "Or was it me you were trying to hit?"

There was a heavy sound as something was dropped to the ground, then the monster crouched and began carefully sweeping the pieces of glass into its hands. Over at the back of the alcove, Axel had a hand pressed to his chest, trying to calm the baleful pounding therein. Roxas, meanwhile, disposed of the broken shards outside of the alcove, set the lantern upright again, filled its fuel canister from a small can, and with the striking of a match, lit the wick. Illumination burst into being, through which the creature glared at Axel as it positioned the lantern a safe distance from the entrance.

"I would refrain from doing that again," it warned in its scraping voice, "as this is one of the only lanterns on the island. It is not easy to salvage functional items from wrecks, you know." Axel didn't respond, his head tilted back now as he struggled to control his exaggerated breaths. That… had frightened him badly. He felt that if he were only able to move around on his own, it would not be so dreadful, but as things were he felt entirely too vulnerable. He had panicked, and that panic was still coursing through his veins.

He heard a noise, and opened his eyes, in time to see the creature bobbing down right in front of him. His voice caught in his throat as Roxas frowned at his pale, perspiring face. Noticing his sudden fear at its proximity, the monster's expression flickered with some unnameable emotion, before it lovingly said, _"Peace, Axel."_

Serenity descended over him all at once, starting at his head and sweeping down through his body. He relaxed, and though he continued to breathe hard, his reactions slower to settle, he managed to smile through it. Roxas smiled back, placing a hand against his cheek. Axel's eyes fluttered shut, his face turning into the touch, and they stayed like this until his pulse had returned to normal and the fearful sweat dried upon his skin.

Slowly, Roxas withdrew, returning to the opposite side of the sanctuary and settling into his usual cross-legged position. Over the course of several minutes, Axel came back to himself, the power of the Siren's voice fading gradually. Once it was gone, however, he didn't find the fear returning. Roxas had achieved what he had set out to do: he had calmed Axel down. He could still feel against his skin where the creature had touched him, its hand flush against his cheek, but… it hadn't been such a bad sensation. It had been gentle. That gentleness was… confusing.

While Axel collected his wits, Roxas busied himself with a sack he had brought with him, filled with lumpy items he began pulling out one by one. Among them, Axel spied a bundle that looked to be clothing. As Roxas carefully spread the items out, Axel, his curiosity getting the better of him, leaned forward to inspect the arrivals. As suspected, one thing the creature had brought was trousers and a shirt, tied together by a belt. Axel felt a burst of gratitude – being naked increased his feelings of defencelessness tenfold. Clothing would be a relief… and he would simply concentrate on not thinking about where it was from, or to whom it had once belonged. Alongside that, there was a pillow, a second blanket, a bottle, and several more pieces of fruit. The bottle held fresh water, which, after giving a cautious sniff and a tentative taste, Axel drank from.

Noticing that the fruit he had brought was unnecessary, since Axel had not yet touched what he had been given last night, Roxas inquired, "Are you not hungry? You should eat to keep your strength up. Once you leave the island, times will be hard."

Axel regarded him cagily. "Well… I wasn't sure if – if it was exactly to my tastes." He was reluctant to inform the creature that he did not trust it. If he just came out and said it, what would prevent the monster from forcing him to eat with its hypnotic power?

Roxas thought about this. "I could try to find something else. There might be supplies from the wreckage of your ship that have not been damaged. But if you do not eat the fruit for now, you will weaken. The search could take me several days."

Finding himself put in a suddenly difficult position, Axel stared at the creature, then down at the fruit. He couldn't deny that he was famished by now. And reluctant though he was… he would rather take a bite of poisoned fruit of his own accord, than to be forced into it in a dream-like haze.

With a sigh, he reached for the nearest piece. They were unlike anything he had seen before, native to the island, perhaps, sky-blue orbs with slightly spiked skin. He held the fruit in his hand, working up his nerve for the first bite. Glancing at the creature, finding that its eyes were intently upon him, Axel resignedly lifted it to his lips, hesitated just once… then nibbled at it. He blinked as a hit of salt filled his mouth – followed swiftly by a curious sweetness. He took another bite, chewing carefully, and found that, as Roxas had told him, it was juicy. The salt was in the skin , the sweetness in the juice, and somehow – somehow it created a wonderful flavour. Before he knew what he was doing, Axel had half-devoured the first piece of fruit, his mind already reaching for the next, his hunger and tongue demanding more of such tasty sustenance.

When he glanced up at Roxas, he stopped abruptly. The creature was watching him closely, its eyes on his mouth as he ate. Realising that he had noticed, it met his gaze quickly. Gulping down his mouthful of salty-sweet flesh, Axel cleared his throat and offered the fruit over to his saviour-cum-captor. "Would you – like a bite?"

Roxas appeared surprised, then shook its feathered head. "No. I… am not able to take nutrition from such a thing, and its flavour is strange to me."

Axel considered this uneasily. "Is that because you eat – people?"

The creature was silent for a moment. "I do not eat the living," it answered, and Axel was not comforted. This meant that it ate the dead. Axel's shipmates…

His appetite rapidly dwindled. Setting down the half-eaten fruit, Axel lowered his gaze to the ground. "…My crew… have any of the others survived?"

Roxas slowly shook its head. "I searched. I swear to you that I did. But… my cousins got to them first, if any of them survived the water."

Axel clasped his face in his hand, despair forming around his heart. They had been good men – too good for a fate such as this. After a while, he asked mournfully, "Why me? Why only me? Why did I live when the others did not?" Lifting his head, he demanded, with a spark of anguished rage, "Why!? Why did you save me?"

Roxas averted his eyes. "I saw you in the waves, and… I knew that Larxene had expressed an interest in you, we saw from the shore, using the spyglass we salvaged from another ship. She wanted to know your flavour, and I…" The creature hesitated. "I did not want you to fall to her."

Axel stared, eyes wide. "Then – even before the ship ran aground, you had decided to rescue me?" Still not looking at him, Roxas nodded. This was – not an answer that pleased Axel. "But then, why not the others? Why not anyone else?"

"I didn't have the time," Roxas answered softly. "Larxene was so intent on you… I knew I had to find you first. The second your ship hit the rocks, I plunged into the ocean to find you. Had I not, you would not be here now."

"The others deserved saving _too,"_ Axel desperately insisted, unable to feel thankful just now for having been snatched from his grim fate. "There were better men than I aboard that ship who deserved their lives. If nothing else, they deserved more than to end up as the meals of _monsters!"_

Now, Roxas did meet his gaze, and Axel thought he saw a sorrowful quality to the creature's expression. "…I understand," was all it said, then, without another word, it gathered the empty sack and rose to its feet. "I must depart again," it told him. "If I remain away, my cousins may grow suspicious. Larxene still hunts for you, certain you were not simply washed away in the ocean. I would not…" Its voice faltered. "I would not have her find you," it finished in a mutter, looking away. "I will return. Please… do not attempt to leave while I am gone."

With that, Roxas passed back through the sail before Axel could say anything, and, entirely too quickly, he was on his own again. He looked around at the items scattered through the alcove, which had been so empty before Roxas had come.

With nothing else to do, he set himself with a heavy heart to the task of slowly getting dressed and continuing to eat, the monster's unusual expressions playing through his mind.


	8. Siren Pt 2

Prompt: Siren  
Main pairing: AkuRoku  
Rating: M  
Word count: 5,068  
AO3 collection: /collections/AkuRokuRiSo_Month  
Provided By: cameoamalthea (tumblr)

.o.O.o.

Roxas didn't return to the tree-room for two days.

When the lantern ran out of fuel the morning after the creature had left, Axel crawled to the entrance to part the sail a little way and allow natural light to enter. The night that bridged the two days was long and tense, Axel lying on his back, staring up into the darkness, wondering if the monster had abandoned him. Perhaps it had lost interest. Perhaps its cousins had discovered it was keeping him, as it seemed to fear. Perhaps it had forgotten him – who knew how long the memories of Sirens might be?

It had told him not to attempt to leave while it was gone, but how long was he expected to wait? He had finished his last piece of fruit several hours ago, and his water the day prior. If Roxas did not return soon, he would be forced to venture out on his own, even with his ankle in its bad condition.

After some thought, he had decided to forgo wearing a shirt, and used it and the belt to bind his lower leg in the hopes that the pressure might alleviate the swelling and support the ankle better as it healed. He had spent the last two days keeping it propped on the pillow the creature had brought him, feeble and lacking in stuffing though it was, and was sure that some improvement could be seen. Even so, the bruising remained deep, and when he moved it, pain still sprang up his leg. He would need to wait a while more before he could think of hobbling around. Three days was not enough for such a bad sprain to mend.

It was late on the second day, heading towards night, that Axel heard, at long last, the sound of approaching footsteps. For once, he was glad at the sound, relieved even, for it meant that Roxas had not left him to die. There would be more supplies, and the creature could fetch him more water – gods, but he was thirsty. He sat up to greet the Siren, wondering a little at this rush of anticipation he felt at the creature's coming, but eager, all the same, to see Roxas' face again. He had not realised until just now how much he had come to depend on the compassion of a monster, even if he still wasn't precisely sure where it came from, or why.

The steps came closer, crashing through the underbrush, and, as usual, paused for a short while in front of the alcove's entrance, as if checking for spying eyes. Then the sail was thrust aside, and Axel realised with a thrill of pure terror that whatever luck he had boasted to this moment had completely run dry.

"You!" The monster at the entrance was not Roxas, but another of its kind, a half-naked, feathered female with slicked-back blonde hair and hunger in its face that bordered on the demented. Where Roxas appeared almost beautiful, this creature looked only savage. "I have been _searching_ for you! I _smelled_ you on the air!" The monster lunged for Axel, who scrambled back but could not move quickly enough to escape its clutches. _"I have hungered for you!"_ the beast screeched, as Axel yelled in fright and hammered at it with his fists. His struggles seemed to annoy it, for it gave him a violent shake, before switching abruptly to its angelic voice, Axel able to feel only a moment's horror before the spell clamped over him. _"Dearest one,"_ the monster trilled, its claws tight around his shoulders, _"won't you come with me? We will find somewhere safe and secluded, and take our time with tasting you. You would like that, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you like to taste you, just as much as I would?"_

Axel all but melted in its grasp. "Oh, yes," he breathed, reaching for the delightful creature's soft feathers, running his hands through them in awe. "Oh, please, take me away with you," he begged.

 _"Good mortal,"_ the creature purred, then bared its teeth, running its tongue along the points. _"But first, before we go, just a little sample, a little sample before we go…"_

Axel's head lolled back, baring his throat for the taking, every part of him singing for the moment that he might feel the angel's bite upon his flesh. He was so glad, so glad he could provide for her, so grateful to be worthy of consideration. His every muscle tightened with rapturous anticipation as her hot breath descended upon his neck…

And then, with a snarl, she was gone, torn away as if by some terrible force, so swiftly she had left bloodied trails where her talons had gripped him. Axel flopped to the dirt, alone once again, blinking in confusion for all the time it took for the monster's voice to change back to its terrible rasp somewhere outside of the alcove, and all at once he was quivering. His hands leapt up to clamp around his neck, feeling frantically for broken skin, finding a patch of wet heat and bringing it in front of his eyes. Was it blood? Was it _his_ blood?

…Oh, heaven help him, it was saliva. She had drooled upon him. He felt the meagre contents of his stomach revolt, and in an instant was choking it up, gasping and gagging. Meanwhile, outside of the alcove, he could hear a fearful howling and commotion, crashes and screams and snarls, at one point a roar that was nearly deafening… and then, at long last, silence.

The sun was setting, its dim light entering the alcove through the thrust-aside sail, Axel's heavy breaths calming but his fear rising. What had just happened? Surely that had been Roxas who came in the nick of time and saved him, but – then what? Who had won such a fierce battle as the one he had just heard transpire?

…Had they both died?

He felt a clutch deep in his chest at the thought. Had Roxas…?

He gasped as a shadow suddenly filled the alcove's entryway. It stood in place, swaying for a moment, and took a staggering step in Axel's direction. Before he could fearfully back away, the creature sank to its knees, then fell forward, slamming face-down in the dust. Wide-eyed, Axel watched it for a long minute, before mustering the courage to approach, crawling nearer until he was able to make out Roxas' features in the gloom.

With trembling hands, he carefully tilted its head so that it was not inhaling dirt, and pushed the hair back from its eyes. Those same eyes fluttered halfway open at the touch, Roxas' voice sounding strange as through bloodied lips, with missing teeth, it asked, "Axel – are you safe?"

Axel nodded, with some awe.

"That's… good. Larxene… is dead. You are safe. My cousin is…" It drew a rattling breath, through the blood that trickled down its throat. "The sail – draw the sail. Your scent… you must hide…" Its words fading, Roxas lost consciousness.

In a state of distress, Axel stared down at the Siren's slack features. Then, slowly, he went to the alcove entrance. Using the twisted trees to pull himself upright, for the first time in days, Axel found his feet. His left ankle was painful, but – he had little choice, as far as he could tell. He limped heavily out into the falling dusk. It was the first time he had seen the sky since the night the ship had driven into the rocks. The storm clouds that had lashed the coast were long gone, a sky filled with pinks, purples, and a deep, encroaching blackened-blue. There were already stars out, winking at him from a distance. But though the sight up above was pretty, the air itself was filled with the smell of blood.

He found the corpse of Larxene a short distance away, and slowly, resolutely, dragged her into the bushes. He covered her with dirt, then several large branches and some dead foliage. If theirs was a species that located things by scent, then Axel wanted to hide hers before hiding his own. The longer it took for any of the other Sirens to find them, the better.

His leg weak now, the pain constant, he hobbled back to the alcove. Pushing aside the sail, he looked in and saw that Roxas hadn't moved. In the last vestiges of twilight, Axel saw that fistfuls of feathers had been torn from around his face and his back, with deep claw marks marring his flesh. Larxene had savaged him – yet Roxas had won. Of the two of them, it was the true monster that lay dead.

What, then, did that make Roxas?

Without knowing the answer, Axel entered the alcove, tugged the sail into position so that no hint of light could spill through, and went to where Roxas lay in the darkness. Lowering himself painfully to the ground, he released a deep breath once he was finally seated again. Unable to drag Roxas from where he lay, instead Axel shifted the contents of the alcove around, placing the pillow underneath the Siren's bloodied head. He discovered the sack that Roxas used to carry supplies, dropped by the entrance, evidently tossed aside when he had arrived and found Larxene atop Axel.

It occurred to him that this was the first time he was voluntarily thinking of Roxas as a 'he' rather than 'it'. The difference of it echoed in his mind.

Untying the sack, he found more water, more fruit, something that smelled suspiciously like alcohol and, astonishingly, ship rations in a watertight case. He had actually found some. Roxas had tracked them down, just like he'd said he would. Was _that_ why he had taken so long to return?

Axel's hands briefly quivered, before he set aside the rations case and carried the water to where Roxas lay senseless. Uncapping the water canteen, he took a long swallow, then trickled some of the precious liquid across the gashes in Roxas' flesh, washing away the blood and the dirt and simply hoping that Siren claws contained no terrible poison that may even now claim Roxas away. He gulped down the last of the water, and in the darkness lay down beside the injured creature, wanting to be close at hand if something went wrong. Through the gloom, he studied what he could of the feathered being's profile, before the exhaustion of all that had happened drank him in, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

.o.O.o.

"I told you to keep the sail shut," Roxas flatly admonished.

The two had slumbered side-by-side until morning, worn out from their efforts, at which point Roxas had risen and gone to inspect the site where Axel had unceremoniously buried his cousin. Upon his return, he had peeled several of the blue fruits and slapped the salty skins against the gashes marring his flesh, though they already appeared to Axel to be closing.

"Your scent drew her here. I could smell it, too, on the wind. This place has become a trap for it, and you wilfully let it out."

"I needed sunlight," Axel muttered, sitting opposite him, one knee drawn up, his hand fixed on the section of neck that Larxene had slobbered on. It made him shiver to think of how near he had come to happily having his throat torn out. "You left me for so long," he added, voice strengthening with an accusing tone.

Roxas regarded him with narrowed eyes, but eventually glanced away. "I suppose that is true." As he turned his head, Axel felt a stab of guilt at the sight of clumps of feathers missing from the side of his face.

"…Will they – regrow?" he asked regretfully, and when Roxas looked at him questioningly, tapped the side of his own face. Roxas lifted a hand to touch the area, noticing, with mild surprise, that they were missing.

"Ah… Yes. They will. In time."

Axel hesitated, then asked, "Can I – touch them?"

Roxas blinked, seeming to have a moment's struggle registering his words. "My…?"

"The feathers." When Roxas uncertainly nodded, Axel shifted closer. He still remembered what Larxene's felt like, and though the memory gave him shivers, he couldn't deny that their softness had been rather remarkable. He raised a hand, and, when Roxas didn't seem about to object, carefully brushed his fingers through the feathers that remained. "Ah…" A low exclamation left his lips. "They are silkier even than hers were…"

Roxas' expression, curiously wooden, darkened slightly. At the sight of Axel's hand once again on his throat, the Siren inclined his head towards it and asked, "Why is that you do that? Is there an injury?"

Axel faltered, giving the area a rub, as if that might dispel the lingering memory of a wicked tongue and razor-sharp teeth that longed to rip into him. "No, this, it's just – it's where she…"

Concern touched Roxas' features. "What? Did my cousin bite you, after all?"

"Not exactly. She… salivated on me." Axel made a wry face, as if to chastise his own foolishness – but to his alarm, Roxas' expression was undergoing a rapid change, growing thunderous.

"She…" He clicked his tongue sharply, pupils dilating as his brows drew low. "I hate that she touched you." His voice, already rough, developed a guttural depth. "She _claimed_ you as her own. I cannot abide it."

"Roxas, relax." Axel gave an anxious laugh. "She's dead, remember? She hasn't got a claim on anything anymore."

The creature's heated gaze, however, burned into his neck, where he was covering it. "…Show it to me. Show me, _now."_

Startled, Axel complied, removing his hand hurriedly to show the blank area. "See? Nothing there. She didn't mark me or anything, she only –" He cut himself off with a gasp as Roxas seized his shoulders and yanked him close, exhaling a hot breath onto the site. "R-Roxas?" Axel's voice had gone high, tight with fear – or was it something else? The way that Roxas had looked at him, and the way that he gripped him now, it wasn't like a monster with a meal; it was… possessive. Axel's heart was beating fast, but it didn't seem to be terror fuelling it.

Glaring at the furrows scratched into Axel's shoulders, Roxas let out a low hiss. "She marked you…" He drew a breath between his teeth. "I must purify you of her sordid presence."

Axel opened his mouth to argue further, then bit down sharply on the words as Roxas dragged his open mouth across Axel's shoulder, the faintest scratch of the tips of his teeth causing him to shudder. For once, however, it was not an expression of horror or disgust – if anything, he found the sensation strangely thrilling. It made him hitch a breath, his hands rising to clutch at Roxas, not to push him away but to – to – he didn't even know what. His mind was reeling. He just – needed to hold on to something. "Roxas…"

"Don't struggle," Roxas growled into his ear, to which Axel shook his head.

"I'm not," he choked. "I won't."

Had – had Roxas used his voice upon him at some point? He couldn't recall. He wasn't sure. He – he couldn't think. The Siren's mouth moved along his shoulder, moving down to his collarbone for his tongue to dip briefly into its crevice, Axel's soft moan meeting the still air of the dark alcove. What… was this? What was happening?

"How dare she," Roxas muttered, "how dare she touch you, how dare she _soil_ you." His lips grazed their way up to Axel's throat. "Was it here?" he asked, nuzzling the spot with his nose.

Axel shook his head, saying breathlessly, "Other side."

Roxas shifted, seating himself atop Axel's crossed legs, passing his mouth over the man's Adam's apple and to the other side of his neck. Axel moved his head obligingly, exposing his throat much as he had for Larxene, but with a sense of excitement that he had not experienced with that monster's teeth near his flesh. With Larxene, he had been spellbound, eager to feed her, happy to do so – but this was something entirely different. He knew he wasn't going to be eaten, he knew nothing was going to hurt, he knew that he was _safe_ with Roxas, knew it at long last, and so felt only wonder for what would come next.

"Here?" Roxas demanded, and Axel wordlessly nodded. He then groaned – loudly – as Roxas opened his jaw wide and pressed his teeth against his skin, not breaking through but marking, definitely marking, leaving indents, while he laved the site with his tongue and occasionally sucked. Axel writhed slowly, clinging to Roxas as the Siren – as he _claimed_ him. That was what this felt like. Axel was being _claimed,_ and the thought sent a thrill through him that had another whispering moan rising from his mouth.

Breaking off, breathing hard, Roxas asked, "Are you scared?"

Axel answered, voice low and strained, _"No."_

This time, it was Roxas' turn to grunt, and then, very carefully, he pressed their lips together. Axel felt his heart lurch, could feel the press of his sharp teeth on the other side, but… but it didn't matter. He returned the kiss, a clumsy, tender joining, pushing his hands through the soft, tickling feathers lining Roxas' face and up into his hair. It was softer even than his feathers. Roxas gave a short gasp at the feel of the fingers in his hair, their mouths parting, hot breaths exchanged as they stared into one another's eyes, struck dumb by the powerful energy between them.

Slowly, Roxas subsided, pressing his cheek against Axel's, where the man could hear his harsh breaths directly against his ear. "…I thought I was too late," the creature said, after some minutes had passed. "I saw her at your throat, and… I thought…" He squeezed Axel carefully in his arms.

Axel closed his eyes. "What happens now?" he softly asked.

Drawing a deeper breath, the thump of his heart against Axel's chest starting to calm, Roxas pushed himself away, extricating himself gently from the man's grasp. Sitting back on his heels, he considered the question, a troubled look gradually dominating his face. "I – cannot go back. My cousins will scent Larxene's blood on me, and see that I have been fighting. When she doesn't come back, they will know that I dispatched her."

Uneasily, Axel asked, "Can't you say that she started it?"

Roxas shook his head, before lowering it. "We do not – attack our own," he said, in almost a mutter. "It is forbidden. To protect against – cannibalism, the law was made."

"You eat _each other?"_ Axel was momentarily perplexed.

"Not in a very long time. It is too easy for a Siren to enter a blood frenzy, and devour its foe."

Axel was sickened. "But – you didn't," he pointed out, feeling nauseated. "I saw the body. You didn't eat her."

"I told you," Roxas answered, turning his head away, "I do not eat the living. It is my own law, one I impose upon myself. A living creature is… sacred." After a beat, he looked at Axel. "Therefore… to me… _you_ are sacred." He swallowed, Axel feeling a touch flustered at the admission, however much it might apply to anyone sitting where he was.

"I – I see."

"I understand, though," the creature quietly went on, "that you view me as merely a monster. I do. When I looked at Larxene and saw the wicked lust on her face, I think I understood more than ever." He frowned. "But… I cannot go back. I have nowhere, now. My cousins would execute me for my crime."

Axel eyed him, then carefully reached a hand out. He touched it lightly upon Roxas' knee. "I… don't think of you as a monster. Not any longer. Like you, I saw the true monster in Larxene. You… are not like her."

"No," Roxas agreed, "I swear I am not."

"Then… can't you come with me?" Axel wasn't thinking straight, he knew he wasn't thinking straight, proposing to take a being like Roxas from this island and – what? To elsewhere in the world? Where on the planet could he possibly take him where he would not be viewed as an abomination?

But still, he couldn't just leave him here to die.

Roxas seemed to share his misgivings. "I? In the mortal world?" He hesitated, then asked, "With you?"

Axel swallowed, then nodded. "I suppose it would be, wouldn't it? If you were to leave… it would be with me. I certainly would not – abandon you. Not here, and not out there, either. So, yes: with me."

Looking tempted, Roxas nevertheless had to point out, "I couldn't possibly pass for mortal."

Axel thought, then suggested, "Well, what if you were simply – reclusive? We could find some quiet island somewhere… and say that you are sickly… and cover your hands with gloves, and your mouth with a mask, and shave your feathers each morning…" He trailed off at the shocked look on Roxas' face, and grimaced. "I suppose you wouldn't like that – denying what the gods made you."

"You would go to such lengths to save me," Roxas muttered, appearing almost – tormented by this. He lowered his head, and for a long minute didn't speak. Then, at length, he whispered, "I lied." Axel blinked, apprehensive at the shame that flickered across the Siren's face. "I am sorry. I didn't save you because Larxene wanted you. I didn't know that she wanted you until I intercepted her outside the cave you woke up in. I just…" He darted a nervous glance up at Axel. "When I saw you through the spyglass…" He lowered his face even further. "I can hardly explain it myself. When I say to you that life is sacred… that _you_ are sacred…" He closed his eyes, shook his head faintly. "When I first saw you aboard that ship, all I could think was that… you were surely the most sacred of all. I had – to save you. I couldn't let them eat you. I…" He lifted his face, met Axel's gaze, raising a hand to grasp against his chest. "In here. My heart told me that I couldn't let you die." As if waiting for Axel's anger, he hunched into himself. "That is why I chose to save you over any of the others." He sighed softly. "To me, being with you is more important than anything. I chose you over my own cousin. I killed her for touching you."

Stunned, Axel took a while to process this. Then, after a long period of silence, he hoarsely asked, "You – love me?"

Roxas' expression turned blank. "I don't know what that is."

An island of monsters, who knew not the meaning of love… Sirens, who lured men to their deaths to feed on them, and then wait for the next ship to come along, sworn not to fight each other for fear that they would devour their own…

And then there was Roxas.

Axel lifted a hand, pressing it against his own chest, where Roxas had done the same with his. "This, in here. When you feel that… you want to be with me?"

Roxas nodded quickly. Axel thought for a moment, then shifted back, crawling to where the contents of the sack had been laid out and took from among them a can of lantern oil. He found the lantern and refilled it, then with one of the matches Roxas had salvaged from ships long past, lit the wick. The flame's light filled the alcove, which, Axel saw, was a mess after everything that had happened. When he looked at Roxas, he saw the full extent of the sorry state he was in. The gashes Larxene had made in him were all too evident, ugly red lines that criss-crossed his neck and body. His feathers were patchier than Axel had realised, and a chunk had been torn from one ear. But his eyes… were clear. And his expression was earnest. This was not a monster.

Slowly, Axel returned to where he sat, settling… close. Immediately, he noticed Roxas' posture stiffen at the proximity. The man took hold of his hands, and smoothed them onto his thighs. Roxas' jaw tightened. His hands were strange, and unnatural. His teeth were frightening, and obviously made for tearing flesh. But – he was gentle. And the colour of his eyes was pretty, and his feathers were soft. Axel almost mourned the idea of having to shave them. Above all, though he was neither human nor monster, Roxas was a being with a soul, and a heart.

Axel… would not leave him here.

"I am here alive because of you," he said, lifting a hand to cup Roxas' face, and in an echo of Axel's behaviour when under the power of his voice, Roxas shut his eyes and turned into his touch. It made Axel's mouth dry to think that how he felt while under a spell was how Roxas felt ordinarily. "It seems… only right… that you should continue to live because of me," he managed to continue. He stroked Roxas' cheek with his thumb. "When my leg is healed… come with me. I'll make sure you don't go hungry. I will… protect you from my kind, just as you did for me." He touched their foreheads together. "Let me be the one to rescue you, Roxas."

When Roxas smiled, even with his pointed teeth, he truly looked nearly divine. A pure happiness radiated from him, and when he spoke, Axel was sure it was entirely unintentional that his voice had adopted some of the warmth it contained when he exercised its power. The rough rasp was nowhere to be heard as he said, "I would like that, very much."

.o.O.o.

It took four more days for Axel's ankle to heal enough for the two of them to move from the alcove of the trees. In that time, Roxas collected supplies from the surrounding forest, and at Axel's direction salvaged things from the scattered ruins of ships around the island. In the end, they had maps, two separate compasses, enough rations for several weeks, and a cache of the salty-sweet fruits to make the water stretch. Roxas assured him that the salt of them acted as a preservative, so they wouldn't just be hauling a boatload of rotted vegetation.

The boat in question was one that Roxas himself had restored, a skiff with a repurposed sail, taken from the wreckage of a ship that had wrecked against the island. With the two of them and all the supplies, it sat low in the water, but was a worthy vessel that Axel would have no problem piloting in open water. Where the rocks might have been a problem for anyone on their own, Roxas' intimate knowledge of the island's coast, and his extraordinary swimming ability, like that of a mermaid, allowed him to guide the boat from the treacherous area.

Once they hit the open water, Axel helped to pull him aboard, the pair exchanging shining looks. They had managed it: they were escaping. Roxas looked different somehow, out in the sunshine, aboard the boat – more human, almost. Axel had made him wear extra clothing, a shirt and hat, so as to protect his delicate skin from the harshness of the sun, the end result making him look less like a creature and more like a young man.

The only hitch came when, evidently spotting the skiff from a lookout, Axel was struck by the singing of Sirens. Their voices drifted eerily from the cliffs, reaching into him and turning his head, a dreadful, adoring longing building in him – only for Roxas to throw his arms around him, and start a song of his own, soft but close, cutting through the distant warble of his cousins, calming Axel's rising agitation. His chest spread with warmth, Roxas continuing his song until they were free of the Sirens' influence.

As Roxas' voice faded, the sounds of the sea taking over, he drew back to check Axel's expression, as if anxious that he might dislike having been manipulated. But he found a tender smile on the man's face, Axel's only comment being, "I like it when you sing to me."

The skiff sailed on.

Following the maps that Roxas had taken, the two made their way towards a tiny islet by a larger bay town, the journey taking three weeks, during which time they turned brown and some of the scaling left Roxas' hands. His pupils, too, seemed less like a cat's, more like a human's, whether because of all the sunlight or some effect of having left the island behind, neither of them knew. His voice continued to hold its power, and with it he was even able to sometimes calm the sea, keeping the skiff from being damaged when the weather turned inclement.

It was as the supplies were beginning to dwindle for Axel, and Roxas, who hadn't fed since the island, was growing weaker by the day, that they found the islet. It was a white-sand paradise, with tall palm trees containing star-shaped fruits. Once they had found fresh water to slake their thirst, and Axel had eaten his fill of the star-shaped fruit, he crossed to the mainland, leaving Roxas inside an old, hidden cave to rest. The maps had been accurate – the bay town still existed, and Axel was able to sell some odds and ends they had brought from the island and buy fresh meat. This he took back to the islet to Roxas, who at last began to regain some strength.

From there, the two men settled on the islet, building a home for themselves, Axel performing odd jobs where he could, occasionally working at the docks. They gained a reputation on the mainland as curious foreigners, one of whom appeared to be ill, judging by the mask he always wore and the gloves on his hands. The people of the bay town were friendly, though, and made no issue of the two strange men suddenly occupying the tiny spit of land just off their coast.

And here it was that they gladly spent the rest of their days: a man and his angelic beast.


	9. Inverted Pt 1

**A/N:** This is a sequel to Shattered, since people had questions after Shattered that I wanted to answer. Hopefully this manages that!

Pairing: AkuRoku

Words: 6,734

Rating: M

.o.O.o.

Roxas was sitting in a corner of a student common at Wise University trying to study, rolling a pen slowly between his fingers, gaze tracking back and forth across the pages of a textbook, when two long hands descended over his eyes and the world went dark.

"Guess _who?"_ a voice sang softly into his ear.

"Hi, Lea," Roxas sighed, a wry grin spreading despite himself. The guy slid his hands to the sides and tilted Roxas' head back to look up into his eyes.

"Did you know because you're psychic, or because you know me so perfectly?"

"Definitely because I'm psychic," Roxas assured him. "We'd have been here all day guessing if I wasn't."

Lea narrowed his sharp green eyes, leaning down and humming a suspicious, _"Hmmm."_ He didn't stop until his nose bumped Roxas' forehead, the two males eye to eye, Roxas' vision filled with nothing but green. "How about now? What do you see, looking _deep_ into my eyes?"

Roxas went quiet, then, after a stretching pause, said in a faint voice, "I see – I see you… and me…" He felt Lea's fingers twitch slightly on the sides of his face. "…failing our next quiz because you kept the pair of us from studying with stupid questions…"

With a snort, Lea straightened, flicking the tip of Roxas' nose. _"Wow._ All that ability, and you use it for evil."

Smirking, Roxas' eyes followed the lanky redhead as he grabbed the chair beside him and swung it around, sitting heavily and balancing his chin on its back. "Didn't you know?" Roxas innocently asked. "I'm the _evil_ twin."

"Mm. I know one thing for sure." Lea shoved his chair nearer to the blond, his face hovering teasingly near to Roxas'. "You're definitely," he muttered, "a demon in the sack."

Roxas laughed softly as Lea started peppering kisses against the side of his neck. _"Hey."_ He did his best to push the guy away. "We're in public, dumbass. These people deserve better than your horn-dog behaviour."

"Let 'em watch," Lea suggested, stretching to try and reach him with Roxas' staying hand on his shoulder. "It'll be the biggest thrill of their bookish lives." He then grinned, white teeth gleaming. _"Or,_ you could come back to my room for a while, and study later…?"

Roxas wavered, tempted despite his better intentions. He darted a quick glance around at the other students, valiantly studying with the time afforded to them. That… should definitely be him. _And_ Lea.

Meeting the redhead's gaze, he proposed, "Only if you agree on a revision session afterwards."

Lea gave a faint roll of the eyes, but nodded his willingness. Roxas squinted at him, measuring his sincerity, then, feeling a familiar excitement starting to rise in his belly, decided, _Fuck it,_ and started packing his things away.

Lea slinging an arm around his shoulders as they stood, they left the common room and headed out into the afternoon light. Roxas inhaled a deep breath of autumn air, looking over at the guy who had been his boyfriend for going on two weeks now, after a rather prolonged and impassioned pursuit by Lea over the past three months since they'd met in an economics elective. If pressed, he couldn't have said for sure what caused him to finally get together with Lea – but his change of heart probably had something to do with his brother hooking up with a guy over in Hollow Bastion. _The_ guy, no less, from his visions, the very ones that Roxas had been drawling from the start were probably just part of a series of hormone dreams.

But getting the call from Sora and hearing that it had all come to pass, that the guy from the dreams was _real,_ and that now they were an item, no less… had kind of got Roxas thinking. Sora had sounded so damn _happy,_ and really, when he searched himself, he knew he had someone like that in his life, too.

And so, the relationship had begun, much to Lea's unending delight, which he insisted on expressing as physically as he could at every given opportunity. Not that Roxas was complaining – he hadn't actually been with anyone as good as Lea in bed before.

So it was that, exchanging playful banter, Lea's fingers tickling at his earlobe and the side of his neck, accompanied by occasional, inflammatory growls of what he intended to do to Roxas once he got him alone, that they made their eager way across campus. They headed up to Lea's room, locked the door so his room-mate couldn't interrupt, and stripped each other off before toppling into bed. The next hour was spent between the sheets, kissing, grunting, thrusting, gasping. Lea never failed to satisfy; by the end, Roxas was a study in perspiration-slicked, hazy-eyed, loose-limbed bliss.

Breathing raggedly, they exchanged a long look, then a grin, then a kiss, Lea rising up on one elbow to lean over Roxas, tongues moving slowly. When they eventually parted, Roxas licked his slightly swollen lips, his smile lazy, Lea's filled with glowing affection, like it might burst out of him at any minute. "I like you," Lea murmured, nudging their noses together. "A lot."

Roxas shifted a little, getting more comfortable, lifting a hand to idly pinch the redhead's chin. Tugging him down into another brief meeting of lips, Roxas replied, "I like you back."

Lea lowered his head to the pillow beside Roxas' head and mumbled, "About damn time."

Chuckling, Roxas reached around and started massaging the back of Lea's neck, the guy sighing beside his ear, relaxing at the caressing touch. Roxas' fingertips strayed up into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, Lea's body growing heavier and heavier on top of him… until, all at once, Roxas realised his boyfriend had fallen asleep.

Lea's weight was comforting, a nice, solid presence, and a warm one now that the sweat was cooling on their skin. Still, Roxas needed to shift him and use the bathroom. He slithered out carefully from under the man, who rolled over without stirring. Smiling faintly, Roxas took a moment to study his sleeping features, a slowly growing sense of satisfaction swelling in his chest. He was – glad that he'd got to know Lea. Gladder still that he'd woken up before Lea had lost interest and moved on to chasing someone else. If that had happened… Roxas knew he'd have missed out on a very good thing.

He'd have to pick up the phone and thank Sora one of these days for galvanising him into it.

Picking his jeans and underwear up from the floor, Roxas shuffled into the small bathroom Lea shared with his room-mate and shut the door. After relieving himself, he tugged the clothing onto his lower half, and, yawning, stepped to the mirror to wash his hands and maybe splash his face. Hadn't he been the one to tell Lea they'd be doing revision later? Ugh. As much as he did _not_ feel like it right now, he knew that in order to keep any sort of balance of power in this relationship – and make sure that Lea couldn't just whisk him away for sex whenever he felt like it – he'd need to stick to his guns with that one. Once he was done in here, he'd go poke the guy awake, and drag him out of bed if need be.

With a deep breath, he wiped his face and pushed the hair away from his eyes, blinking blearily at his reflection.

That's when he saw the large, bone-white face staring back, no eyes, no lips, no real features – like a mask, surrounded by darkness.

With a cry, Roxas stumbled back, hitting the bathroom door with a _thump._ He grasped blindly for the handle, as the face in the mirror then spoke with a soulless voice: _"Madame, the brother is located."_ Tendrils of dark smoke instantly started emerging from the glass, undulating through the air towards Roxas, who had no doubt whatsoever that to touch that darkness would be incredibly bad for his health.

Chest hitching, he rattled the handle, twisted it, started to yank it open, hearing a drowsy, "Roxas?" from the other side of the room, Lea having been awoken by the thump.

" _LEA! Help me!"_ Roxas managed to frantically call – but before he could wrench the door back, the darkness struck, stabbing into him from behind, slamming him, once again, into the door, which shut with a bang.

" _Roxas?"_ Lea sounded alarmed, his knocking coming a moment later, followed by an attempt to push the door open. Roxas, however, was held in place against it by an incredible force, so that no amount of kicking or shoving from Lea's side would shift it. Roxas could _feel_ the darkness moving through his body, ice-cold snakes dragging beneath his skin. His limbs twitched, eyes rolling into his skull, small, fractured noises escaping his throat that Lea could doubtless hear, his cries of Roxas' name growing more and more panicked.

When at long last Lea finally did manage to open the door, it happened suddenly, the redhead practically falling to the bathroom floor as it swung wide. "Rox – Roxas!?"

It was a tiny bathroom, with a toilet, a sink, a medicine cabinet with a mirror front, and a rack for a hand towel. There was no space to hide, no windows from which to escape.

And yet, in stark contrast to all logic, all common-sense, all that he knew to be possible in the world…

"Roxas…?"

Lea found the room – empty.

.o.O.o.

Roxas coughed weakly, waking dizzy on the cold, hard floor… but not, he noticed as his eyelids fluttered open, the floor of Lea's bathroom.

Just as he was trying to wrap his head around this, his memories a fuzzy blur, someone kicked him. Hard. "Wake up!" a strident voice commanded, followed impatiently by, "Get _up,_ you fool." Another kick hit him, a sharp toe swung into his bare ribs.

Groaning, Roxas rolled away from the assault, clambering with difficulty onto his hands and knees, his entire body trembling and feebly weak. He lifted his head carefully, to both size up and glare at his attacker.

It was – a woman. Tall and slender, she wore a flowing blue dress and black cape, its stiff, white collar rising high, framing an objectively beautiful but currently hard-as-ice face. She regarded Roxas arrogantly, with smouldering contempt. "Must you _stare_ so?" she demanded, voice as cruel as her expression. "On your feet, you _wretch."_

She watched on disgustedly as Roxas struggled upward, a hand going to his throbbing ribs, which were in far more pain than those couple of kicks should have warranted. He wondered if she had been going at him for a while before he'd woken up. Resentfully, he met her gaze, hunched but defiant. She lifted her chin disdainfully at the display.

"Don't give me that churlish look, brat. You should know your betters when you see them, and bow your knee accordingly."

"But you just told me to stand _up,"_ Roxas reminded her, voice dangerously tight and quiet. Whoever she was, she was testing his patience. He glanced about. "Where am I?" He was in – some sort of round, stone-hewn room, tapestries on the walls, a four-post bed covered in furs off to one side. Hung over to one side was a large, ornate mirror, its frame eye-catching but its glass nearly black. The whole place had a dark feel to it – wherever Roxas looked, shadows seemed to swamp his eyesight, giving the world an almost monochromatic gloom.

It sure as shit wasn't Lea's bathroom.

"You are in my realm," the woman coldly told him. "More than that, you need not know."

 _Realm?_ What was that? Like a kingdom? Another world, maybe?

"The mirror," Roxas murmured, eyes narrowing at the woman. "That was you?"

"It was at my bidding," she sniffed, shoulders squaring haughtily.

" _Why?"_ Roxas asked, between clenched teeth. "I don't know you, lady. You've got no reason to bring me here."

Her eyes glinted angrily. "Don't presume to know _my_ mind, _boy."_ She moved towards him, steps of sibilant grace, eyes like slits and voice a hiss as she said, "If it couldn't be that damnable brother of yours, it would be you."

"My brother?" Roxas was taken completely by surprise, followed swiftly by bewilderment. "Sora? What have you got to do with –" He was cut off, very sharply, by the woman removing a short, jewelled sceptre from within the folds of her cape and striking him across the face with it. Roxas toppled to his knees with a cry, clutching his jaw, before giving by a long, loud moan. He tasted blood. His whole head was vibrating. Holding his face in one hand, he lifted his eyes to her, just in time to see her winding up for the next swing.

Roxas rolled onto his back and out of the way, scrambling towards the bed to try and put something between himself and the insane woman. "I _tried,"_ she ranted fiercely, stalking after him, "to punish the appropriate individual. I set seven _years_ of wicked luck upon that boy, for breaking my mirror. That mirror was my only portal into the world of light! He broke the enchantment, broke the portal, broke my _grasp_ on that foolish mirror-store couple. He broke _everything!"_ She lashed out at Roxas, narrowly missing the back of his head as he threw himself over the bed. "That mirror was without equal! Now I am forced to enchant a _new_ one, which will take another _seven years_ to complete. By that time," she raged, following Roxas around the bed, "that boy should have been long dead! The curse would have _snuffed out_ his miserable life, for the crime of so much as coming _near_ my mirror."

She swung with both arms and slammed Roxas on the shoulder as he tried to dart past, the blow sending him spinning, punching his arm out of its socket. He howled in pain, his arm going instantly numb and useless, eyes searching desperately for an exit, but there _wasn't one._ Why wasn't there a door? A _window,_ for Christ's sake! Why – why was this just a _sealed room?_

"But then," she continued, stomping after him, one hand holding her voluminous skirt, the other wielding the sceptre threateningly, _"your_ _brother_ interfered, and before the curse had even _started_ to properly take effect, he touched that boy's heart with _light,_ driving the darkness I left within him into a corner where it will _simply sit until it fades away!"_ Expression crazed, she demanded, _"Now tell me, boy, is that justice!?"_

"This has got – _nothing to do with me!"_ Roxas yelled at her, holding his incapacitated arm close to his body. "I didn't affect your fucking curse!"

"But the one who _did_ is _untouchable,"_ she snarled, advancing upon him. "That brother of yours is simply _drowning_ in light, I couldn't go near him if I tried, and I certainly couldn't reach him through some ordinary, everyday mirror." She levelled the sceptre at him, a wild light in her eyes. "But you, dear – _you_ are not nearly as sunny-bright as _that_ boy, are you? A cynical child like you, full of sarcastic little quips and suspicions about the world – _you_ I could get to. And I tracked you _down._ A price _will_ be paid, and if it can't be the boy who broke my mirror, or the boy who _rescued_ him, then it shall be _that_ boy's kin who settles the debt."

Panting, Roxas shook his head, fear rising into his throat. _No way out, stuck in a room with a crazy woman._ What the hell was he supposed to do? Wrestle the damn stick off her and bludgeon her to death with it?

…Well, if it was going to be between him or her…

Roxas steeled himself, lacking conviction for the idea of _killing_ someone, but needing to defend himself. Perhaps he could just – knock her out until he figured a way out of this. That mirror on the wall probably had something to do with it. He just – had to get the _stick._

He waited until she came at him again, surging forward as she drew her arm back for the swing, trying to snatch the heavy-tipped sceptre out of her hand – but she was quicker on her feet than he expected, darting out of reach and then –

Roxas could only let out a strangled grunt as she slammed the large jewel of the sceptre against his back, knocking the air right out of him and his legs from under him. He sprawled heavily to the floor, knocking his chin so hard against the stone he saw stars. He lay in place, gasping and writhing, his mind screaming at him to get up before she _caved his head in,_ but his body was just – numb. He was _trying,_ but every inch he gained was agony. By the time he managed to turn, it would only be in time to watch as the final strike descended.

Still. If all he could do was face his fate, then… that's what he'd do.

Turning painstakingly, he pressed himself up to his knees, groaning at the pain. He lifted his head, to stare the bitch down before she killed him, and, God damn her, she was waiting. She wanted to see his eyes as he died. He knew it with one look. _That_ was the type she was: she wanted _suffering;_ she wanted to see the light leave him entirely.

He managed to raise the middle finger of his working hand, breathing hard. "Fuck you, you ugly hag."

With an enraged shriek, she flew at him, the sceptre raised high. And then… darkness swallowed the world. A strong pair of hands grabbed hold of Roxas, and he felt the most peculiar _tugging_ motion, like he was being dragged at a rapid rate through a black tunnel. He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't _see,_ could hear nothing but the distant scream of the woman, which seemed to rage hotter and angrier than ever before disappearing completely. Unsure if he'd travelled for minutes or crossed all of space and time in an instant, Roxas found himself suddenly – elsewhere.

The blackness dissolved all at once, leaving him gasping and disorientated, sitting on his ass on the cold floor. He was frozen in shock for a long moment, staring straight ahead at where, just moments ago, there had been a madwoman running at him with a sceptre. In her place, there was – a long corridor, blazingly white in contrast to the darkness he had just been surrounded by, though still with that persistently shadowy appearance, making it look grey, more than anything.

"Jesus, Roxas. That was a little too close," an all-too-familiar voice drawled dryly from behind him, his head turning slowly, with the highest level of disbelief, to gaze up at what he realised was – somehow – his rescuer.

"… _Lea?"_

The redhead gazed down at him, tugging black leather gloves more securely on, wearing black _everything,_ now that Roxas was noticing, including a long, zipped coat that he'd never seen before. The red hair and the eyes were the same, but – oddly, Roxas noticed that there were two flecks beneath Lea's eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Not 'Lea'," he answered. "The name's Axel. Get it memorised."

Roxas blinked, shaking his head, then wincing at the pain the motion brought. "I don't – understand," he said, through his teeth. "You _are_ Lea. Who's Axel?"

The man sighed, hands on his hips. "Now, that's just rude. I go and save you from the wicked bitch in the tower, and you try to deny my _existence?"_ Crouching abruptly, so they were eye to eye, he said softly, "You know _me,_ don't you, Roxas? I mean, you _are_ the evil twin. That means you belong here." He started to reach a hand out to touch Roxas' face… but before he could make contact, a sound from somewhere down the long, white passageway made him pause. He turned his head slightly, listening, then grimaced and straightened. "Hey, can you stand? Do you need help?" Roxas tried and failed a little, Lea – no, Axel? – taking hold of his good arm and aiding him to his feet. Pulling the arm over his shoulders, he bent to accommodate Roxas' shorter stature and said, "Come on. Let's get you somewhere safe, first of all."

"Lea –"

"Axel," he swiftly corrected.

Roxas sent him a sidelong look as they hobbled along. "…Axel, then. Where are we? What – just happened? Is this still that crazy lady's realm?"

" _Her_ realm? Yeah, right," Axel muttered. "She wishes. Why do you think we keep her locked in a tower? That bitch is _nutty._ You're in Castle Oblivion. I yanked you away from the witch through a dark corridor."

"Castle… corridor? I don't – I don't understand…" Roxas' voice tapered off, fading sharply towards the end, his steps starting to lag. Axel shot him an alarmed look.

"Hey, hey, hang in there, Roxas! We're not out of harm's way _just_ yet." When it seemed that Roxas was in fact on the verge of passing out, Axel cursed softly, then veered to the side and tested the nearest door. It opened into a simple bedroom, the redhead all but dragging Roxas through, shutting it firmly behind them. Turning, Axel looked around, peering quickly, as if expecting to see someone; but when the coast was clear, he carried Roxas over to the bed and laid him carefully down. "Damn." He shook his head at the dirt and bruises covering Roxas. "She really did a number on you, huh?"

Roxas' eyelids fluttered weakly. "You – you saved me, right?" When Axel nodded, he perplexedly asked, _"How?_ What was that darkness? And if you're Axel, and not Lea, then – who even _are_ you?" Eyes sliding shut, forehead creasing, he complained, "I have… _no_ idea what's going on."

Axel huffed a small laugh. "Not too patient, are you?" Glancing around the room, he said, "Look, before we get stuck on explanations, how about I get something to clean you up? You look like shit."

"Thanks," Roxas mumbled. As he lay there and fought to stay conscious through the great, swimming wooziness he was currently experiencing, Axel went behind a changing screen at the edge of the room, emerging again a minute later with a bowl of water and a white towel tossed casually over one shoulder.

He sat at the edge of the bed and dipped a corner of the towel into the bowl, squeezing it out and using it to dab gently at the smudges of dirt and the smearing blood from where the blow to his shoulder had split the skin. When he went to touch Roxas' swollen jaw, the blond hissed and flinched away, Axel letting out a low, sympathetic tut. "That looks nasty. She clobbered the hell out of you, didn't she?"

"It's more than that," Roxas grunted, nodding his chin at his shoulder. "I can't feel my arm."

With concern, Axel carefully felt the area. "Ouch. Yeah, that's dislocated. We're going to need to pop you back in."

Alarmed, waking up a little at that, Roxas demanded, _"What?_ I don't think so! Just – take me to a hospital."

Axel shot him a vaguely amused look, one corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Roxas… I don't think you want a hospital, somehow."

"Why not?" the blond asked hotly, freaked at the idea of this – this Lea lookalike wanting to _pop his arm back in._ That was _definitely_ a 'professional medical intervention' sort of moment.

Axel brushed a spike of blond from his forehead, Roxas wincing slightly as the man then cupped the side of his face, a thumb dragging down his cheek with a little too much pressure. His expression was – happy, for some reason. "Because, you're not in your _world_ anymore, Roxas. If I take you to a hospital here, they'll know right away that you're from out of town, and you won't survive ten seconds longer than that moment."

Roxas stared, wide-eyed, his mouth distended slightly from Axel's thumb still stroking harder than necessary down his face. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Silly other," Axel softly murmured. He leaned down, Roxas drawing away slightly, wary of this guy's strange attitude. "You're in the next world over, Roxas – the realm of shadows. This…" He gestured to the room around them – or, more specifically, the dim, patchy gloom that enveloped everything. "…is what exists on the other side of all those mirrors in your world. We are your mirror images." His eyes glinted. "We are the dark side to everything you've ever known." Roxas held his gaze, unable to look away, a nearly hypnotic exhilaration lighting Axel from within. "And, best of all, you came to me," the man said, grinning broadly.

"I – I did what?"

Axel sighed, dabbing with the towel at the knot on his jaw. "See, the thing is, everyone's got an 'other', right? You called me… 'Lea'…" A moment's resentment seemed to resonate in his tone. "But Lea is the one who exists on the other side of the glass. He's in the _light_ world, like some kind of golden boy. Me – I exist over here, in the shadow realm, and am easily _ten times_ better than that jackass. Stronger, smarter, sexier, you name it." His gaze darting between Roxas' blue eyes, he seemed to be seeking agreement, or approval. When all he got was blank guardedness, he went on. "The thing is, you're a twin. That means that you don't _have_ an other in the shadow realm, because you and your other both live in the same world. Which really makes me sore, because that _Lea_ guy gets to have you, but I _don't._ There's supposed to be a balance with these things. What happens over there also happens over here. That's the natural _order."_ He tilted his head so that their faces were level. "So while he's fucking you, I'm supposed to have someone to fuck, too. But I don't, because you're a twin. That means I get _stiffed._ You follow?"

Roxas wanted to shake his head. He wasn't really – following at all. Not even slightly. This guy was… weird. But he kind of got the feeling that pretending to understand was what Axel required, so instead he nodded, just slightly.

Satisfied, the guy nodded back. "Yeah, you get me. Of _course_ you do – it's because you belong over here with me."

Roxas had a little trouble with that one. "Huh?"

"Haven't you been listening?" Axel asked, looking affectionately exasperated. "Since you're a twin, that means that one of you was _originally_ meant to exist over here. You're an anomaly, Roxas – one of us, but born into _that_ world. So Lea is supposed to be fucking your _brother,_ while I get to fuck you. That's how it works." He lowered over Roxas again, expression dimming into something more serious now, eyes roaming over Roxas' features in a way that made the blond's skin prickle uneasily. "Not that it'd just be – physical. I know you're more than just a great lay. I want to be with you, Roxas. We're supposed to be together."

"Um…" Roxas' voice caught in his throat, hoarse and unsure. "I don't… You should probably…" He drew an unsteady breath. "Please – back off."

Axel looked momentarily surprised, frowning before drawing slowly back. "…Well, anyway," he went on, after a short pause, continuing as if the unsettling tangent hadn't taken place, "I can't take you to a hospital or anything, or they'll kill you. Your kind doesn't exactly fit in over here. They'd sniff you right out and break your neck."

Roxas… could hear the truth of his words. He didn't need to be psychic to figure out that Axel was being completely genuine with him. He swallowed. "Okay," he croaked, absorbing this unfortunate fact. "In that case – I'll go to the hospital when I get back to my… world…" He trailed off as Axel's face began rapidly darkening before he could finish getting the words out.

"You want to go _back?"_ He was on top of Roxas in a heartbeat, knees either side of his waist, strong hands pinning Roxas' wrists to the bed by his sides. Arched over him, glowering suddenly, Axel stated, "You _can't._ You're finally _here._ I've had to watch that moron chase you around for _months._ I could've sealed the deal in a week, at most. I'd have been fucking you raw this entire time, and you'd have been _begging_ me for more."

"Stop that," Roxas snapped, glaring up at him. "Get off me, and let me go. And don't talk about _Lea_ like that."

Axel's grip, if anything, went tighter. "Why shouldn't I?" he growled. "He's _nothing_ compared to me. He'd be dead in minutes over here, but _I_ carved my own path, bloody and strong. I'm the one who deserves you – not him."

"Nobody _deserves_ me," Roxas argued. "I _choose_ who I'm with, and I chose Lea. Now get – _off!"_ He twisted, lifting a knee sharply into Axel's groin, lacking much in the way of impact but giving him enough of a jolt to force a retreat. The bowl of water clattered loudly to the ground as Axel accidentally kicked it, the noise startling them both, the water splashing wide.

While Roxas was distracted by that, Axel lunged. He grabbed hold of Roxas, the blond gasping, his cry suddenly changing halfway through, becoming a strangled scream as Axel used the opportunity to, with savage strength, wrench his arm back into its socket. It was excruciating, the world going black around the edges. His voice became muffled as Axel then kissed him, a deep, hard kiss that sucked the broken voice right out of Roxas' mouth.

In the end, he hung limp in Axel's grasp, the redhead's kisses becoming feverish, Roxas in a state of shock.

He was saved by the door slamming open. Axel, seeming to remember himself, sucked a sharp breath and twisted around, the short-haired woman who'd burst in so unceremoniously loudly demanding, "What the _fuck_ is all that noise about?" Identifying the redhead, she spat, "Axel? What are _you_ doing in _my_ room!?"

"Larxene," Axel muttered, followed by, _"Shit."_ He scrambled off the bed, scrubbing his mouth as Roxas panted for air. A terrible enervation had seized him, his mind struggling to focus. He could dimly hear Axel verbally sparring with the woman. "Look, I'll just grab him and get out of your freakish hair, okay?"

"Who _is_ he? _I_ haven't seen him before. Are you kidnapping little boys, Axel?"

"Yeah, and molesting them on your bed," was the sarcastic answer, Roxas vaguely thinking that, actually, he wasn't too far off with that one. "He's nobody. He's not your concern."

"Oh, but he _is._ I can see from here that someone's beaten him to shit, and that makes him _interesting."_ She stalked over, an acidic face entering Roxas' field of vision as he lolled his head over towards her.

"He's just new in town, all right?" Axel exclaimed, hurrying along behind her, trying to insert himself between them before she could get a good look at Roxas. "If that's not _okay_ with you, I'll take him and get out."

"No, _no,"_ she breathed, holding up a hand and smacking it into Axel's face. "I don't _think_ so, Axel." Her voice went sickly sweet, an unstable, razor-thin smile splitting her face. "Well, well – _somebody's_ being naughty," she said in a lilting sing-song. "This boy is one of _them,_ isn't he? The stench of light is all over him. Axel, what _have_ you done?"

"He's one of us now," Axel argued, pulling at her arm, trying to get her away from the bed. "He'll lose that light before long. Just stay away from him, Larxene."

"Stay away? In my own _room?"_ She turned, and with a swift, vicious motion, punched Axel so that he staggered back. In the brief time that he was off balance, she slid across the bed and grabbed Roxas by the belt loops of his jeans, dragging him sharply along and tugging him right off the other side. He fell to the floor with a yelp, before finding himself yanked into a crushing headlock. The woman's forearm was pressed to his throat hard enough to block off nearly all air, Roxas scrabbling at it until she tightened to the point of completely choking him. She only loosened enough for him to thinly inhale when he stopped fighting her, grinning nastily across the room at Axel, who stood rooted in place, looking equal parts furious and petrified.

"Now," she said, laughingly, "how about we have that conversation again, with some _changes_ this time?"

"Larxene, don't you hurt him," Axel desperately warned, as if he had any leverage whatsoever right now. "I will tear your head off and kick it off the highest tower in Castle Oblivion."

She let out a derisive, _"Hah!"_ then asked, voice like a whip, "Where'd you get him, Axel? Who _is_ this adorable, light-filled little muffin, huh?" She pinched Roxas' cheek painfully, cooing down at him.

"He – he isn't 'light-filled'," Axel stubbornly responded, Roxas sending over an incredulous look at the guy's priorities. "He's one of us, he just doesn't know it yet. He's a twin, Larxene. That means he was originally meant for _here."_

"Ooh, a twin, huh?" She turned to study Roxas with a small amount of curiosity. "So he's a _turncoat._ Too good to be born into _our_ world?" Her grip around his neck suddenly tightened to such a degree that Roxas felt like it might snap at any second, what little air he had in his lungs coming out in a fractured gurgle.

" _Larxene!"_

As Axel made as if to leap across the bed, she abruptly loosened her grip to allow Roxas a screeching breath. However, the pressure was replaced, entirely too quickly, by the point of something chillingly _sharp_ against his throat. Both Roxas and Axel froze in place as Larxene held a short knife against the soft underside of his jaw, slipped out from within her sleeve. "Ah-ah-ah, slow down, Axel. Let's… take it easy, shall we?"

"Larxene, that's enough," he growled, eyes burning, yet so obviously overwhelmed by his helplessness right now. "Don't you dare do anything to Roxas."

"But he's one of _them,_ Axel," she said, her tone hard, for once lacking its mocking tone. "What are you doing, trying to protect this interloper? He doesn't belong here."

"So – I'll put him back," Axel anxiously proposed, as if he hadn't just recently been telling Roxas that he was meant to stay. "No one needs to know he was here in the first place. Come on, Larxene – you kill him here, and who knows what happens over in the other realm?"

Larxene made a show of mulling this over. "Well, you may have a point there…" She then broke off with a guffaw, sticking the knife the tiniest bit into Roxas' flesh. "Get it? Point!" She sneered at Axel, her answer already clear upon her face. "But, to be honest, I _want_ to know what happens over there. Will his twin die, too? Just how connected _are_ those little cheats?" She readied the knife with a manic grin. "Let's find out!"

As she talked, Roxas' fingers had been creeping towards the bowl on the ground. When he felt Larxene tensing to slash his throat, he snatched it up and swung it over his shoulder, smashing it with all the strength he could muster into her face. It was enough to provide a break in her grip as she reeled, Roxas following it up with an elbow into her side and clawing free, scrambling away on hands and knees. Before he could get too far, he was stopped, a howl tearing from his throat, as a bloody-nosed Larxene, grinning through red teeth, stabbed the knife through his jeans and into his calf.

"Was that supposed to be your getaway plan?" she crowed, dragging herself towards him, wrenching the knife free and winding up to jam it next into his thigh. Axel once again came to the rescue, the second time now that he was saving Roxas from a crazed female in this place, Larxene's knife passing harmlessly through the towel as he leapt behind her and hooked it around her hand as she swung. He twisted it, dislodging the knife from her grip, before sitting hard on her back and winding the towel around her throat.

With Roxas watching on in horror, Axel jerked the towel tighter and tighter, white-knuckled, mercilessly choking the life out of Larxene right in front of him. "Wait… _wait…_ Axel, _stop!"_ he eventually managed to cry, as Larxene's tongue bulged out of her mouth, her eyes seeming too large for their sockets. Axel… didn't listen.

He killed her, right there on the floor of her own bedroom.

As her lifeless body slipped to the floor, Axel relaxing his grip on the towel, Roxas found that he was shaking relentlessly, all over. Noticing the intensity of his distress, Axel panted, "She would've – she would've alerted everyone to your being here. She wouldn't have let it go, Roxas." Meeting his gaze determinedly, he stated, "It was her or you, and I made the choice." He stood, kicking Larxene's body to one side, so that it was up against the bed, out of sight to anyone else who might come through the door looking for her. He then bent, and with the same hand that had helped to strangle a woman to death, offered to help Roxas to his feet.

The boy… stared at it.

"We have to go, Roxas," Axel softly said, seeming to understand, at the very least, that any sudden movement or loud noise right now could send him into a panic.

Reluctantly, Roxas grasped the proffered hand. Axel gently helped him upright, Roxas letting out a small noise and all but sagging into his arms at the pain that spiked through his leg where Larxene had stabbed him. Fretting, Axel sat him on the bed and, to Roxas' utter, skin-crawling chagrin, used the towel that had killed Larxene to wrap around the wound for the time being.

"We need to make it so you stand out less…" Axel thought for a moment, eyes darting around the room, before settling on the changing screen. He popped to his feet and strode over to it, while Roxas hunched over, clutching the edge of the bed and struggling not to lose his lunch. His mind was awhirl. _This can't be real. This is insane. I'm still in bed with Lea – this is just a nightmare._

Pretty goddamn real for a nightmare, though.

Axel brought back a long, black coat, holding it out and sizing Roxas up with a look. "This is Larxene's, but it should fit you; you're not too big."

Roxas curled an apprehensive lip, but hesitantly took the coat, aware that Axel was right about needing to go undercover. Walking around half-naked was only going to attract more unwanted attention. Standing up, favouring his left leg, he pulled the coat over his bare upper half and zipped it. Axel tugged the hood over his head, bending to peer into his face as he adjusted it to hide as much of Roxas as possible. "There… much better…" His hands on Roxas faltered, then stroked the outside of the hood, almost reverently. "You look just like one of us, now," he huskily commented.

Roxas' glaring eyes pierced him. "I'm not, though," he answered, his first rattled words since Larxene's demise. "Larxene figured that out fast enough; why can't you?" As the man withdrew, expression flattening, he took a fortifying breath and said, "I think – that you should help me get home, Axel. I don't belong here."

"But you do!" Axel countered earnestly. As he tried to reach for Roxas again, the blond stepped out of range, averting his face. Axel's hands hovered in the air, then sank. "…You'll learn," he eventually muttered. "You'll – you'll realise it before long. You'll know it like I know it." When Roxas said nothing, he sighed. "Anyway, let's just – get away from Larxene before anyone comes along. I'll take you to a safe place."

Somehow, Roxas doubted that.


	10. Inverted Pt 2

Pairing: AkuRoku

Words: 8,319

Rating: M

.o.O.o.

With nowhere else to go – and no one else who might protect him from the rabid insanity of this shadow realm – Roxas obediently, if silently, fell into step with Axel. The redhead surreptitiously put an arm around him, to help him limp along, his lower leg burning with pain and the heat of the blood soaking into the towel. His breaths coming shallowly, Roxas fought to keep himself together, well aware that he had no luxury for bemoaning his various agonies right now. Maybe later.

Maybe with Lea, if he ever managed to return.

A quick glance at Axel, though, didn't fill him with hope. The man's gaze was set doggedly forward, his sights purely focused on getting Roxas to the 'safe place', after which…

Well, Roxas didn't even know what. And he was rapidly losing the ability to continue fighting. Each encounter in this godforsaken place was pushing him to utmost.

Eager to make sure there wasn't going to be another one any time soon, conscious of how exhausted Roxas had become, Axel hurried him as fast as his leg would allow along the long, white hallway. Whenever they heard someone coming, footsteps echoing along the stretching corridors, he would whisper a curse and quickly sweep them around the next corner, a hand on the back of Roxas' head to keep his face down. Their path was random, though Axel did appear to have an ultimate destination in mind he was attempting to steer them towards. Roxas, meanwhile, lost all sense of where they were, if ever he'd had even the slightest inkling in the first place. He noticed, some way along, that a trail of red spatters was being littered in his wake, the weakness in his body mounting. He couldn't stop shaking.

When the shadows around them started growing thicker, it happened gradually at first, Roxas hardly noticing a difference, since everywhere he looked was steeped in that persistent, grey-washed gloom. But soon they took on a crowding quality, seeming to – shift with a mind of their own, like maggots writhing out of the corners of his eyes. When he turned his head, clutching automatically at Axel's sleeve, the redhead frowned and followed his gaze, his steps faltering as he saw what Roxas had detected. He whirled, looking back the way they'd come, Roxas turning as well and discovering that all along the trail of blood droplets, the shadows were stretching, roiling, taking shape: small, black figures emerging unlike any creature Roxas had ever seen. If he had to liken them to something, he would have chosen insects – their antennae and swarming mindset placed that image in mind, along with a shudder of revulsion at the realisation that they were attracted to his blood.

Axel's face grew heavy, an arm passing instinctively in front of Roxas in a protective gesture as more and more of the little _things_ formed and started cluttering the hallway. They scratched with black claws at the dotted blood – then, several at a time, seemed to sense the presence of the being that had shed them. Roxas felt a chill as their blank, yellow-eyed attention found him, with still more of them coming from the shadows.

"What _are_ they?" he asked, horrified.

" _Sh!"_ Axel hissed, but too late – at the sound of Roxas' voice, the creatures bristled, and, as one, surged forwards. Axel cried, _"Run!"_ and suddenly, neither of them cared a damn about Roxas' stabbed calf. They sprinted along, Axel with a hand twisted firmly into the back of Roxas' coat so that he couldn't stumble and fall behind, pushing him so that he was always half a step ahead.

As they approached a junction, Axel barked, _"Left!"_ and they swerved around it, passing a startled, black-clothed figure, who uttered a mystified, "Axel?"

"Demyx, _run!"_ he yelled back, the guy barely hesitating before taking off in the opposite direction, managing to dodge the black wave of creatures at the junction by a bare second. Roxas gasped for air, fighting to keep his feet, knowing that the slightest stumble would mean – what, exactly? He didn't want to find out. Axel's terror was enough.

He felt the towel slipping from around his leg, dislodged by all the running despite how tightly Axel had tied it, and several flapping steps later it dropped away, nearly tripping him up, forcing him to hop over it, Axel staggering slightly beside him at the abrupt change in gait. Roxas chanced a look back, and wheezed out, _"Axel!"_

The redhead glanced over his shoulder, still running, and saw what Roxas had spotted: the towel, soaked as it was in Roxas' blood, was acting as a temporary beacon for the surging creatures, which circled around and crashed down upon it like a wave. "Keep going!" Axel urged, and they continued on, Roxas' right foot stamping red prints with every step now that there was nothing to hold back the blood.

At last, Axel yanked him bodily down one final passageway and threw a door open, shoving Roxas ahead so that he fell to his knees, slamming the door shut and grabbing two large, bladed wheels from beside it. Backing up rapidly, Roxas following suit and dragging himself along until he hit a bed, Axel gripped the wheels tightly and waited for the black creatures to follow them through. Their heavy breaths filled the room, Roxas with his head tilted back against the end of the bed, chest heaving, wide eyes glued to the door.

They both went still as what little light showed under the door went suddenly dark, like a black cloud had descended. Then came the scratching, the scrabbling of claws against wood, growing in volume and insistence until Roxas clamped his hands over his ears, certain he'd be hearing it in his nightmares for years to come. Several bony claws attempted entry under the door, but Axel was ready, slamming his weapons down the second anything appeared, slicing them clean off. Roxas watched in horrified fascination as they wriggled around for several seconds before disintegrating into nothingness.

Noticing that they were still aiming for the blood that Roxas tracked everywhere, including a long line of it that stretched from the doorway over to the bed, Axel, in a fit of quick-thinking, unzipped his coat and threw it down over the red gleam, stomping down so it would absorb it, as if this would put them off the scent. Astonishingly, it did in fact do the job – slowly, the scratching lessened. With Axel continuing to annihilate anything that tried coming under the door, and the creatures' inability to claim high enough mental function to operate a door handle, their numbers dwindled until, at last, light returned under the door.

"…They're back in the shadows," Axel finally concluded, still standing wary at the door, but relaxing enough to look over at Roxas. "You're safe here. This is my room – nobody will come barging in this time."

"What _were_ those things?" the boy demanded, voice jumping, fingers trembling against the sides of his face.

Axel gave a weary sigh, dragging a wrist over his perspiring brow. "Heartless. They exist in the shadows. The only thing that draws them more than darkness…" He cast an apprehensive eye over Roxas' bleeding form. "…is light."

Roxas' mouth went thin. "…So they're going to keep coming after me, is that what you're saying?"

Axel paced away from the door. "No! No – well, maybe, I guess. They must have sensed you in the blood. Before that – maybe I was keeping you shielded, being near me… Now, though…" He was talking more to himself than to Roxas, trying to figure it out aloud, breaking off to shake his head in consternation. "I don't _know,"_ he repeated, agitatedly. "Let me think." He was breathing unsteadily, still recovering from the pursuit, his gaze raking Roxas' prone form with frustration. "It's – it's all that _light_ inside you that's the problem. If it wasn't for that, you'd be fine, no one would even _notice_ you, you'd fit right in." His eyes darted back and forth, head twitching, before he came to a bleak conclusion: "We have to get it out of you."

Roxas' eyes flared wide. "Excuse me?"

Axel discarded his weapons with a clatter that made Roxas wince, stalking to where he slumped against the bed and grabbing fistfuls of his borrowed black coat. With a grunt, he hauled Roxas upright, then tossed him onto the bed. Bouncing on the mattress, Roxas cried out, pain bursting through his leg. "Axel, wait – I'm still bleeding!"

"I don't care," the man snapped, hands passing over him impatiently, as if seeking something in the folds of his coat. "If we don't get that light out of you, you're dead anyway." He located Roxas' zipper and dragged it roughly down, exposing his bare chest, fingers now probing their way across his belly and chest, digging uncomfortably into his flesh. "It's got to be in here somewhere," Axel muttered, eyes narrowed. Pressing a hand onto Roxas' sternum, he wondered, "The heart, maybe?"

"What are you planning to _do?"_ Roxas demanded, with a spike of fear. "Tear out my _heart?_ Because _I don't think people survive that."_

"I have to find it," Axel snarled back, loud and hoarse, nearly punching Roxas in the chest as he spoke. "The Heartless will keep coming if I don't, and Demyx – Demyx saw me with you! If he comes and sees you like this, I'll have to kill him, too! I'll have to kill all of them, and I _don't think I can manage that."_

"Then, don't!" Roxas frantically suggested, hands on his wrists, trying to push him away. Axel slapped him away, pinning his arms above his head with one hand, Roxas' injured shoulder searing.

"I don't have a choice!" he cried. "Damn it, Roxas, if you don't want to die, you have to let me find it and take it from you! If I don't, they'll all find you, and you won't be able to stay here!"

Roxas glared up at him, teeth gritted through the pain, and with dwindling strength but rising anger declared, "I don't want to stay!"

"You don't mean that," Axel frenziedly told him, fingernails digging into the skin above his heart. "You were _supposed –"_

"I don't care where I was _supposed_ to be!" Roxas bawled up into his face, turning pink with the effort of the volume. "I care about where I am, and _I don't want to be here!_ I want to go home, back to the people I love! I want to go back to Sora, and to Lea!"

Anger flaring in Axel's features, he snatched the edges of Roxas' unzipped coat and gave the boy a hard shake. _"Lea!"_ Even as his face was contorting with his rage, though, there appeared a glimmer of something else that caused him to hesitate. "Wait – you said you want to go back to the people you _love,"_ he said, trepidation creeping through his bearing. "Then, you said _Lea –_ what does that mean? Do you – love Lea?" Roxas stared up at him, throat shifting as he swallowed. A pause passed, into which he hadn't the nerve to speak, that silence conveying all the answer Axel required. He all but dropped Roxas back to the bed, as if burned. _"No,"_ he thickly muttered, followed by, _"Shit."_ He then roared it, the tendons standing out on his neck: _"SHIT!"_ Slamming a fist to the bed, close enough to make Roxas jump, he hung his head so that it touched against Roxas' chest, the boy awash with bewilderment, heart pounding at the violence of Axel's reaction.

"A-Axel?" he worked up the courage to query, after a short while.

It took him a little longer to respond, his eventual mutter being that of, _"Love."_ He shifted atop Roxas – the moment suddenly so reminiscent of when Lea had fallen asleep on him that the déjà vu was dizzying in its intensity – then pulled himself off, sitting on the edge of the bed with rigid shoulders and a heavy head. "I can't compete," he eventually said, tone bitter. "You _love_ Lea. As Axel… I'll never be enough. If it's him you love, with all his _light,_ then I was beaten before I even started."

Seeing him sitting there, looking so wretched, and – so _very_ like Lea, more than ever right now – Roxas couldn't help but feel a pang. "Axel…" He ran a hand over his weary face and eyed the man's melancholic profile with his fingers across his lips. "You know, it isn't just Lea," he offered awkwardly, the man's head twitching towards him. "I mean, you and Lea – technically, you're the same person, right?"

"We're not _the same,"_ Axel growled. "Are you the same as your brother? Because he's the one who would have been your other, if everything had happened like it _should have."_

"All right, not the same, then," Roxas corrected. "But – I mean, comparing me and Sora is different to comparing you and Lea. He and I _are_ brothers, but you – you and Lea, you're just opposite sides of the mirror, right?" Axel scowled, but didn't argue. "Doesn't that mean," Roxas carefully suggested, "that by loving Lea, there's a part of _you_ that I love, by extension?"

Axel stiffened. He looked over at Roxas at last, frowning. "…Do you mean that?"

Roxas shrugged a little. "You'd never met me before I turned up here, but even so, you wanted to keep me here forever. That means that you and Lea are connected, don't you think? Otherwise, I'd just be another nobody to you. I mean, how did you even know that the witch had me?"

"Because… because Lea –" Axel cut himself off, lapsing into thought. "Lea went looking for you, and you weren't there. That's when I knew you had to be on this side, and went searching for you." He gave a small, humourless laugh. "I thought it was my big chance. That things were righting themselves, but it was all just… the stupid witch, being crazy and dragging you over here."

"But if it wasn't for Lea, you wouldn't know me at all," Roxas pointed out, shifting restlessly, voice growing tired. "That's what I'm trying to say, Axel. The two of you – you're not just two separate entities. You _are_ connected. So doesn't it stand to reason that if I'm in love with Lea, then – there's a little bit of you in Lea who is loved, as well?"

Axel was silent for a long while, processing this. Roxas closed his eyes and willed him to believe it. He didn't know if _he_ did, necessarily – a lot of this was simply an attempt to calm the guy down, and stop his talk of removing Roxas' heart while he slowly bled out across the bedcovers. But he couldn't help but be the slightest bit moved by the seriousness with which Axel was considering his words. Was Lea – really somewhere in this guy? _Were_ they one and the same, separated by nothing more than… shadows and circumstance?

"Am I just… supposed to let you go?" Axel asked at last, quiet and resentful.

Roxas sighed. "I'll die over here if you don't," he bluntly reminded him. "And you can't just remove my light, either. If you try, I'll never forgive you." When Axel looked like maybe he could handle a lack of forgiveness if it meant he still had access to Roxas, he pointedly added, "Not to mention you'd probably kill me in the process." Swallowing hard, gaze tracking over the ceiling in an unfocused sort of way, he mumbled, "As it stands, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, anyway."

These were the words that finally reached Axel, slapping some sense into him. Looking over at Roxas' leg, he muttered, "Shit." The bed sheets, once white, were now stained with red in a slowly blossoming halo around Roxas' leg. "Wait here," he said.

A rough, whispering laugh left Roxas' lips. "That's the easy part."

Axel returned after a couple of minutes of rustling around the room, toting a fresh towel, another bowl of water, and a roll of bandaging. Blue eyes wandering blearily around the room, Roxas observed in a murmur, "This looks… the same as where Larxene died."

Axel glanced up from where he was carefully pulling the blood-soaked leg of Roxas' jeans up. "Yeah. They're all the same. It's what Castle Oblivion looks like, I guess. We're part of the same Organisation."

"Organisation…?"

Axel shrugged lightly. "Just a collection of us over here that go around keeping the peace, more or less."

Arching a brow, Roxas incredulously echoed, "Keep the _peace?"_ Axel looked over, meeting his gaze for a moment. "You don't seem like much of a peacekeeper to me."

The man lifted his chin, pride in his features. "I left a trail of blood behind me, until they recognised that I was meant for the job. Life as an Organisation member is full of perks. Well worth the hard work it takes to get here."

"You _murdered_ your way to becoming a peacekeeper," Roxas dully summarised, wondering if Axel was even capable of comprehending the awful irony, or feeling the faintest flicker of remorse for his actions.

"Hey, if it wasn't me, it'd just be someone else," Axel flippantly replied, taking the towel and starting to wipe the blood from his leg.

Hissing with pain, Roxas asked through his teeth, "And what happens to the people on the other side? When your other dies – then what?"

"They get sick," Axel answered, without missing a beat, as if they were discussing the lunch menu at a restaurant rather than people's lives.

Aghast at this information, and the utter _casualness_ of Axel's attitude, he demanded, _"What?"_

Axel darted over a faintly annoyed look. "What? It's better than being dead, isn't it? They can recover. They don't _always,_ but it's not like they don't have a chance – which is more than you can say for the ones over here. We just dissolve into shadows."

Roxas blinked at this, gaping at the man, who was still working at gathering all the blood, the towel looking gory. Axel couldn't have cared less about either the people he'd killed _or_ the ones who got sick as a result on the other side. He was just – concerned with his own progress, his own power. What was worse, he didn't seem to consider this unusual, as though it was the way they _all_ were over here. And he – he expected Roxas to want to _remain?_

Brow furrowing, Roxas looked at the ceiling, swallowing his opinions of this dark, twisted side of the mirror and just… hoping it would all be over soon. He had to consider the possibility of escaping from Axel, somehow, if he proved uncooperative. But – then what?

And… what would happen to Sora, if Roxas somehow – died? If he was supposed to be Sora's other, born into the world of light only by sheer luck, did they or did they not share that same connection? If one of them died – would the other fall ill? If Roxas allowed himself to die over here because he charged off on his own – a likely scenario, all things considered – would Sora then get… sick?

He shut his eyes, a low breath escaping him, experiencing a flutter of despair for the first time since arriving in this place. It had all been so violent and fast he hadn't had time to properly _consider_ things yet. That he had the same psychic abilities as Sora gave him the slightest edge, in that he already knew that things like other worlds existed, so he wasn't a gibbering _mess_ like he might have been if he was otherwise normal. But still – his ability to keep his cool was at breaking point.

Axel chose this moment to pause in his ministrations. He had mopped up the blood, the bowl beside him a deep red, much the same as the towel. Now, Roxas' flesh was, for the moment, damp and golden, pale around the edges of the knife wound, which was already starting to overflow again. Axel's hands trailed down the length of his calf, brushing softly along with a reverent expression on his face. "Every part of you is so warm and soft," he murmured, smearing a trickle of blood with his thumb.

"Axel," Roxas snapped, lifting his head from the bed to woozily glare at the man. "Finish the damn job. I feel _sick_ from all the blood I've lost. You need to wrap it up, and then I _need_ a hospital."

Axel's face fell, that same darkness from earlier returning to his eyes. His hands tightened briefly around Roxas' leg… but then, with reluctant obedience, he picked up the bandaging and started unrolling it. "A hospital. So – _your_ world, then," he supposed, the bitterness back in full swing. "With _Lea."_ Glowering down at Roxas' leg, hands moving to wrap the bandaging around, he gritted, "He was never meant to have you in the first place. This… this is supposed to be _mine._ You are supposed to be with _me."_

"Ah, cut the shit, Axel." Roxas irritably dropped his head back to the pillow, patience run beyond its limit. "Use your damn brain, would you? If I can figure it out with _blood loss,_ you should have realised it ages ago: if I'd been born into this world, you'd have never so much as known I existed. I'm _Sora's_ other, according to you, right? Well, Sora's got a boyfriend – and he'd never have met Lea, which means you would not, in fact, be with me. It'd all be different."

Axel's hands faltered, his face rising from his task, eyes wide at the revelation. "No – wait… Then… But maybe Lea would have met him later on…?"

"No," Roxas answered curtly, "he wouldn't have. Sora's been dreaming of the same guy since we were kids, and he _found_ him recently. Now that they're together, there's no way he'll ever have eyes for anyone else. So whoever _that_ guy is, that's who I would have ended up with in this place. Technically, _he's_ the one getting stiffed. Get it, now? If it wasn't for me being a twin, neither you _or_ Lea would know a damn thing about me, let alone be 'fucking' me. So take that for whatever it's worth to you, Axel."

Axel looked like he'd been punched. He pulled the gauze tight, a sharp, knee-jerk reaction, causing Roxas to grunt with the pain of it, before he resumed wrapping it around. "So… If you had been over here like you were meant to…"

"We would never have met." Idly, Roxas remarked, "You probably would have preferred that – at least then you'd have had a chance with someone else."

" _No."_ He blinked, twisting his head on the pillow to look down at Axel, bent over his leg, once again pausing in the bandaging. "I wouldn't want that," the redhead hotly said. Before Roxas could comment, he continued wrapping the gauze, making it snug and tight. Though the blood continued to seep through, it was slowing with the added pressure.

"What are you, a masochist?" Roxas softly asked.

"I want _you,"_ Axel said, words strained, eyes focused burningly on Roxas' leg. "I wish it was me and not Lea, but if it has to be like this, then – fine. At least I still know we're connected, somehow. But the thought of you not even _existing_ in my life, of you being with someone else entirely?" He shook his head fiercely, giving another sharp, wince-inducing tug. "That's not what I'd prefer," he muttered.

"…So, what are you saying?" Roxas cautiously asked, Axel heaving an impatient sigh as he finished the bandaging effort and stuck the gauze in place. He scowled down at it for a long moment, then lifted his eyes to Roxas'.

"I'm saying – I'm saying that at least you being with Lea is better than nothing. And yes, you need a hospital. This knife wound isn't going to close on its own. You need help."

"You're – going to help me get home?"

"I'm… going to help you get help," Axel replied, glancing away with obvious displeasure and, perhaps, some disappointment. "You can't stay here, or you'll die. And… hell, if keeping you with Lea is the closest I'll ever get to you…" He sighed again, scrubbing a hand at the back of his head. "I don't know. Maybe I _am_ a masochist. But – this is better than nothing. I _think."_ He grimaced. "It's better than you dying, or never knowing about me and Lea at all." He stood, gathering up the bowl and soiled towel. As he turned away to dispose of them, he said, a little ominously, "I've got conditions, though."

Expression becoming shuttered, Roxas asked neutrally, "Oh?"

Axel disappeared behind the change screen and tipped the water out, gurgling down a sink out of sight. When he reappeared, wiping his hands on his shirt, he wore a sly, crafty look. "Two things. Two requests." Approaching the bed, he stood over Roxas, hands on hips, and stared for a moment. "First, I want a kiss."

Roxas' eyes narrowed. "Didn't you already kiss me? You know – when I was screaming in pain?"

"Then," Axel amended, "I want _you_ to kiss _me."_ As Roxas considered this, he coaxed, "Come on, it's not that bad, right? I mean – you're the one who said that Lea and me are basically the same."

"Lea hasn't killed people."

" _Lea,"_ Axel said silkily, "just hasn't had the chance yet." His gaze bore into Roxas', a splinter of hunger within his expression that sent the smallest of shivers down Roxas' spine.

Finally, he conceded. "Fine. But I'm not sitting up. My leg hurts like a bitch."

"Fine with me," Axel answered, and climbed onto the bed, depositing himself on Roxas' abdomen, just north of his hips. With a hand planted either side of his head, Roxas found himself staring up at a thoroughly serious Axel. They regarded each other for a long moment, Roxas making the first move when it became apparent that Axel wasn't going to, true to his 'you kiss _me'_ demand.

Reaching a hand up, Roxas first, hesitantly, touched a thumb against one of the marks beneath his eyes. Tattoos, he now realised. Permanent. Other than that… there was literally no other physical difference between Axel and Lea. Roxas thought that the blazing green of Lea's eyes – especially when he was aroused, or focused on Roxas, as Axel currently was – to be entirely unique to him. But Axel was making the breath catch in his throat just like Lea did. There was such an intensity to it. The way that Axel was looking at him was – achingly familiar.

Roxas swallowed. Wrapping his hand around the back of Axel's head, he tugged the man gently downward, lifting up from the pillow a short way to meet him. As their lips neared, warm breaths mingling, he felt Axel tense with anticipation, hands tightening on the bed. When their mouths connected, softly at first, Axel exhaled, his tongue coming out to seek entry beyond Roxas' chastely closed lips. When Roxas didn't immediately grant access, he groaned quietly against him, begging quietly, "Please. Please…"

Taking pity on him, Roxas parted his lips, allowing the kiss to deepen, Axel's tongue meeting his own gratefully. When Roxas thought about it, barring any _other_ unforeseen attacks by witches, if he managed to get out of this place, he'd never be back again – which meant that this was the only kiss Axel was ever going to get from him. Suddenly, he understood a little better why it was one of Axel's conditions. He wrapped his other arm behind Axel, drawing him down as he lowered back to the pillow, before moving his hands to cup the sides of the man's face. For several minutes – far longer than Roxas had initially planned – their lips met and parted, tongues touching and sliding, breaths slow, much like the kiss itself. Axel was surprisingly restrained; Roxas had been expecting him to push his luck, considering how he had behaved initially. But he was just – taking what he could get, it seemed. There was a crease between his brows that looked… almost pained.

He really – did care about Roxas. He was as dark and warped as this place could make a person, but even so, there was… _love_ in his heart. Or as close to such a thing as he could get.

Eventually, before either of them could get… carried away… Roxas, with an internal acknowledgment of some regret, ended the kiss. Axel, reluctant to stop, pressed a few damp pecks against Roxas' chin and jaw… but when the blond didn't respond, he forced himself up, meeting Roxas' gaze hazily. He swallowed hard. "…Thanks."

Roxas shook his head slightly, dismissing the idea of needing to be thanked for such a thing. He was feeling… confused, to be perfectly honest. Axel and Lea were beginning to blur together inside him.

"Now," the man said, his voice hoarse, "my second condition."

Roxas went still, wondering warily what it was going to be. If it was sex, would he refuse? Could he? Not simply out of needing Axel's help, but – out of desiring, more than he liked to admit, this dangerous extension of Lea? Even knowing he was a killer, even knowing how violent he could be, and how cold towards others' lives – Roxas couldn't deny the flicker of a flame that Axel lit within him.

Maybe Roxas really was meant to have been born into this world, after all.

As Axel lowered himself back down, lips beside Roxas' ear, the boy felt a spark of anticipation mixed with nervous unease. He didn't _want_ to have sex with Axel, not here, not now, not under these conditions – but the attraction was _there,_ damn it, and not justbecause he was the mirror-image of Lea.

Axel licked his lips, the sound, right next to Roxas as he was, sending the slightest of shivers through the boy. "When you get back to Lea," he huskily whispered, "do me a favour… and get him to fuck you in front of a mirror."

There was a beat of silence, into which Roxas burst out laughing. Axel drew back and eyed him with a smirk, despite the fact that he was still being utterly genuine. That just made Roxas laugh harder. Lying on his back on a strange bed, in a strange world, with a strange man seated on his stomach, a stabbed leg, a good quart of blood lost along the way, it was pretty much all he _could_ do at this point.

"You want me to," he chuckled, wiping leaking eyes, "get Lea to fuck me in front of a _mirror?"_

Eyes gleaming, Axel nodded. "Hard. Rough. And when he does – you won't be able to help but think of _me."_

Roxas drew a deep, unsteady breath, trying not to show how much that idea affected him. Eventually, once he had settled down a little, the giggles fading away, he sighed, "Okay, Axel."

The man squinted suspiciously. "Really? You're not just saying it?"

"Really. Sex in front of a mirror."

Leaning down, eyes intent, Axel promised, "I'll be watching."

As Roxas suppressed the resultant shudder those words brought – not a negative sensation – Axel, unaware of the impact he was having, accepted Roxas' word and swung off him, returning to his feet. Trying to sound normal, Roxas asked, after a moment, "So, now what?"

Axel had gone to the door, was picking up his coat from the floor, dragging it on despite the blood it had absorbed. As he pulled his hair from under the hood, he said, "Now, you stay here and rest. I'm going to go and find some things out."

Tensing, Roxas lifted his head from the pillow. "What? You're _leaving_ me here? What about the Heartless? And anyone else who might come along?"

"You're safe here," Axel assured him. "The rooms are sealed to the Heartless, that's why they couldn't just manifest out of the walls in here. But, as much as I like the idea, I can't just keep you in here until you die." The way he said it suggested that he really _did_ like the idea, and the chill that adhered to Roxas' skin from the blood loss reached deeper, cutting a little into the dizzy affection he had started feeling for the man. "I need to go and ask a few careful questions, confirm some things, and then I'll be back. I'm going to get you out of here, Roxas." His tone was clipped – determined, now that the decision had been made, and the 'conditions' agreed to. But it, and his expression, softened a little at the lingering alarm on the boy's face. "…Just use the opportunity to rest while you can. I won't be too long. No one will come in uninvited. You're still my secret."

Inhaling slowly, Roxas nodded. Axel watched with a hand on the door handle as he sank back onto the pillow, blinking at the ceiling.

"Close your eyes, Roxas," Axel quietly advised.

The boy did so, and heard the door open, then click shut again.

Exhaustion crashed over him the moment Axel was gone. All the tension that kept him alert and untrusting dissolved, making him realise just how on edge the man had him at all times. He dozed fitfully, not even noticing that he had slipped beneath consciousness until he was woken by Axel some indeterminate length of time later.

" _Roxas."_

His eyes popped open, muscles tightening at the sight of the man bending over the bed, his face mere inches away. "What?" he demanded, sucking a breath.

"Get up. It's time to go."

Feeling flustered by the abrupt announcement, he wiped his face clumsily, asking, "Did something happen?"

Axel pressed his lips thin. "Not exactly. But I don't it's wise for us to stick around. I asked a few too many questions, and made some people suspicious." He stepped back, allowing Roxas to sit up and lower his legs over the side of the bed. "Take your time," Axel warned him. "You'll probably be dizzy."

As advised, Roxas took several deep breaths and simply sat there for a few minutes, allowing his body to adjust to being upright again. When he was ready, he nodded at Axel, who held out a hand to help him up. Roxas stood carefully, not completely trusting of his ability to remain that way, but finding that it was, some swaying notwithstanding, doable. Axel zipped his coat back up, closing his chest off from view, and swept the dark hood back over his hair. Roxas' leg throbbed achingly, the pain like acid on his flesh, but he could hobble, barely, with Axel's support. He wasn't finished just yet.

"So?" he asked, a little breathless from the effort. "What's the plan? What sorts of questions were you asking?"

"Questions about magic mirrors," Axel grimly answered, turning him around so they could start moving towards the doorway. He paused to pick up the spiked wheels Roxas had seen him use on the Heartless, attaching them to low hooks on his belt, covering them up with his coat so that his hips looked extra wide. He glanced at Roxas' blank expression. "That's how you were brought here. The bitch in the tower used a magic mirror to drag you over. It was in her tower room – that's how she manages to move around, between this world and yours. It's the only movement she's allowed, since we sealed her up in that room."

"Why did you?" Roxas asked nervously.

"Dude, you've met her," Axel responded archly. "Would _you_ let her run around, trying to rule the world? She thought she could take control of this place, and she got locked up for her troubles. She's bad news."

That _Axel_ thought someone else was bad news really was saying something. Roxas felt a little weak – weaker – at having been in her presence.

"But it's the mirror that's key," Axel went on, turning to him and giving him a once-over, checking that he looked the part, even if his light gave him away if anyone got too close. "If you were brought here by a magic mirror, stands to reason that it's a mirror that's your ticket back out. But they don't exactly grow on trees, you know?"

"Are we going back to her tower?" Roxas asked, feeling a thrill of apprehension at the prospect.

"Not while you're still here and injured." Axel shook his head, to Roxas' relief. "I'll be going back there – believe me, she won't get away with this – but you'd just trip me up. I don't want her getting near you again. We're heading for a different mirror."

"So, there's more than one?"

"Yeah, but only _one."_ Axel's expression showed his frustration."It was hell trying to get the location of it out of Zexion, too. He's way too fuckin' sharp, all like 'Why the sudden interest, Axel? Why do you seem agitated, Axel? _Is it just me, or does something seem different about you, Axel?'"_ He gave an angry sneer. "If he'd actually come right out with the word 'light', I'd have killed him."

Roxas felt his pulse quicken. "Light?"

Axel darted him a flat look. "The blood in my coat. He could sense it, I guess, just not strongly enough to start throwing accusations. So, we need to get moving before anyone comes investigating – especially if they notice Larxene missing." He opened his arms, gesturing for Roxas to enter into them. "So, come on. I'm going to carry you. We're hopping a corridor out of this place, and I do _not_ trust you to not trip and get lost in the darkness." Roxas hesitated, lifting a brow. Axel rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to trick you, Roxas. If I wanted a _hug_ , I would have made it a condition. I'm serious. One misstep in the corridor, and you'd find out a lot more about the darkness than you were ever planning to know."

Roxas grimaced at this less than comforting notion, and stepped into the circle of Axel's arms as requested. They closed immediately around him, holding him close, tightly, Roxas' face pressed into his shoulder, and, again, the sense of being held by Lea was overwhelming to the point where Roxas almost held him back. He stopped himself at the last moment, merely twitching in Axel's grasp, who, not noticing, closed his eyes and drew a breath.

Almost at once, darkness sprang about them like long, black tendrils of flame, creating a portal so opaque it was almost reflective. Axel's grip tightened further, and a moment later Roxas was being dragged again, the gasp freezing in his chest as the darkness swallowed them whole. He squeezed his eyes shut, a moment too late to avoid seeing the near-maddening vastness of the abyss Axel had drawn him into. Time stretched and contorted, so that it was impossible to know how much or little of it passed. When they arrived at their destination, and the terrible darkness dispersed to make way for bitumen and the cold night air, Roxas felt like he'd lost a year of his life, in the span of a heartbeat.

He swayed sharply, Axel clutching at him, exclaiming, "Whoa – hey, Roxas? You holding up?"

"I'm – okay," he mumbled, the vertigo slow to fade, his fingers tightening on Axel's sleeve. "Just give me a moment."

Slowly, he raised his eyes to their surroundings, hoping to ease the disorientation. They were outside; he had figured that much out by the fresh air, and the breeze. Night had fallen, but was lit by the neon signs attached to nearby buildings – tall, forbidding structures that lined the street they had emerged onto. A gigantic structure loomed at the top of a nearby hill: a castle, its lit windows staring like blank eyes into the night. The area was otherwise – strikingly empty. There wasn't a single soul about, except for Axel and Roxas.

Unnerved, Roxas asked, "Where _are_ we?"

"Halfway across the country," Axel informed him, looking around. "I guess they've got a curfew. The ruler of this place has what we're looking for."

"A… magic mirror?" Roxas dubiously said, still trying to wrap his head around that one.

"Your ticket home," Axel confirmed, a glum weight to his tone.

Roxas sent him a long look, opening his mouth to speak, when a burst of motion nearby caught their attention. Heads jerking around, they watched as, on the concrete awning over a move theatre, one of the dark portals swept in and out of existence, leaving behind a black-clad young man.

Axel immediately stepped in front of Roxas, expression hardening. The young man stared down at them – or, Roxas was pretty sure that's what he was doing. It was hard to tell, since he was wearing a strip of black cloth over his eyes, tied behind his head over long, silver hair.

Calling out to them, the newcomer said, almost casually, "It's about time. I figured you must be Organisation, since Roxas dropped right off the map after the witch's tower. Castle Oblivion's the only place you could hide him that effectively."

Axel's eyes narrowed at the knowledge this guy wielded. Aggressively, he demanded, "Excuse me? Who the fuck are you, and what do _you_ know about Roxas?"

"I know he doesn't belong with you," was the young man's swift rejoinder. Then, to Roxas, he called, "It's okay, Roxas; I'm here to take you away from him."

If Axel had been aggravated before, it was nothing compared to the way he swelled now. He took a step towards the interloper, hands forming fists, and snarled, "The hell you _are!_ Roxas is _mine!"_

"Actually, if you want to get technical, he should be _mine,"_ the guy delicately corrected, Axel's eyes widening with realisation, "since his other and mine are destined soul-mates."

At this, Axel was practically foaming. Thrusting back the sides of his coat, he unhooked his weapons. _"Destined?_ Hah! Come down here and I'll show you just how far your _destined soul-mates_ bullshit gets you."

"All right, then. I will."

A black portal once again engulfed the young man, opening a split second later beside Axel, who spun to meet the threat just in time to stop a jagged-edged sword from carving into him. He knocked it aside with a clatter of steel on steel, the two of them leaping apart, Axel dragging Roxas with him so roughly the boy lost his footing and stumbled to the road.

Axel didn't pause to apologise, was already lunging forward again, a flash of red-and-black meeting the newcomer with a loud clash of weapons. Roxas rolled onto his knees, watching with alarm as the two fought. The interloper, he saw with mounting dread, was an effective swordsman; he and Axel swung at each other with absolute abandon, aiming to maim, possibly even kill. Knowing Axel, it _would_ be to kill.

Frantically, Roxas tried to piece it together in his head – if this guy claimed to be the other of Roxas' other, then that meant Sora, right? Which meant Sora's boyfriend – right? So this guy was the mirror image of Sora's boyfriend, whose name was… shit, what was it?

He flinched as Axel sustained a slash to his arm, the redhead roaring and swinging with his twin weapons, the young man leaping back, then scrambling further still as Axel's charge continued, fuelled by rage and possessiveness. _No time for thinking!_ Roxas shoved himself to his feet, sprinting as well as his leg would allow. Axel was a storm of vicious slashes with his weapons, keeping the newcomer persistently on the back foot now that his blood had been shed, and if Roxas didn't do _something,_ he really was going to kill the guy. That was the guy that Sora had been dreaming about all his life, damn it – or his other was. He couldn't stand by and let this incarnation of him be killed, because then the other one would get _sick –_ and there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen to Lea, either. _Both_ of these morons needed to be stopped.

Reaching Axel, Roxas extended a hand, yelling, "Axel, _stop!"_ He snagged a handful of his coat and yanked, swinging the redhead around, reversing their positions, Axel very nearly slashing at him reflexively, halting himself at the last possible second from swinging one of the bladed wheels straight across his throat. His wild eyes went cold at the sight of Roxas suddenly standing between the two of them.

"Roxas!"

Even as he shouted the warning, Roxas suddenly discovered the hard way why it was bad to throw yourself into an armed fight with only your body. He jolted, both attackers letting out cries of anguish as the newcomer's blade thrust partway into the meat of his left shoulder. It slid free a moment later, Roxas groaning. A familiar warmth flooded his back, accompanied by an even more sadly familiar stench: the overwhelming scent of his own blood.

" _Roxas!"_ The guy lowered his sword and reached for him, only to be stopped sharply by Axel thrusting one of his weapons out threateningly, keeping him at bay.

Eyes ablaze, he snarled, "Don't you come _near him!"_ His other hand dropping the second wheel, Axel protectively wrapped an arm around Roxas, who leaned against him heavily, in shock.

"I didn't mean to," the guy lamented. "I'm sorry – Roxas, I'm _sorry,_ I tried to stop but I didn't have time."

"Yeah, sure," Axel snapped, savagely unforgiving. "You'd probably prefer that he was _dead_ rather than with me – you sick fucking _freak."_

"That's not true," the newcomer returned angrily, "and you damn well know it."

"Shut – _up!"_ Roxas growled. He was recovering slowly, still stunned by the new injury but not yet able to feel anything but the curious, buzzing heat of it. He shoved Axel away with an elbow, glaring first at him, then back at the silver-haired guy. "You – what's your name?"

"Riku," he answered. "I've taken the name of my other, in the hopes that by doing so –"

"Yeah, yeah, _walk into the light,_ blah, blah, blah,"Axel interrupted scornfully, Roxas sending him a glowering stare.

" _What?"_

"This guy is part of some order that chooses to try and ignore their darkness, follow the true path to light, blah, blah, _blah._ That's why he's wearing the blindfold; it's supposed to symbolise his 'disconnection from this realm'." Axel couldn't have sounded more poisonously derisive if he'd tried. He positively hated the guy.

Roxas was unimpressed. "There's an order that emphasises that," he said, regarding Axel severely, "and you didn't _join it?"_

Axel's mouth opened and closed a couple times, the man searching for the right words. "Well, I mean – why deny who you are, right?"

"You could _be,"_ Roxas stressed, anger starting to rise, "like _Lea."_ Axel glared, but fell silent. Turning now to the one calling himself Riku, he demanded, "You know who I am?"

The guy gave a quick nod. "Yes. You're Roxas. The second you arrived in this realm, I sensed you. I did what I could to track you down before you fell into the wrong hands." Voice turning chilly, he added, towards Axel, "Evidently I was too late."

"At least _I_ haven't _stabbed him."_ Axel's words were acidic, Riku scowling back.

" _Axel."_ Roxas shot him a warning look, before turning his attention back to Riku. "Look, you need to back off, okay? I appreciate whatever this – 'following the true path to light' thing is – but I'm doing just fine without you, and, in fact, I'm not planning on sticking around."

Riku went still. "What?"

"Axel's busting me out of this place," Roxas said, taking a step backwards towards the redhead.

"He's – _choosing_ to? To help you?" His scepticism was vast.

"Better than seeing him end up with the likes of _you,"_ Axel muttered, radiating hostility.

"You believe him?" Riku asked Roxas. "You trust him?"

"I know him pretty well, more or less," Roxas warily said.

"He's in love with my other," Axel volunteered, with a middle finger.

Through his teeth, Roxas snapped, _"Axel!"_

Riku absorbed this, considering the new information. "…Then, good. In that case, I want to help."

This time, it was Axel's turn to demand, _"What?"_

Roxas observed him carefully. "You want to help me – get out? Back to my world?"

"Forget it," Axel declared, Roxas cutting him off with an impatient hand.

"I never intended to try and keep you for myself, if that's what you're thinking," Riku said. "Maybe that's what _he_ tried," he resentfully added, a suggestion with which Roxas couldn't exactly argue, "but I'm well aware that to remain here would kill you. You grew up in that world – whatever might have been between you and me doesn't exist. It's enough for me to know that my other has Sora, over in that world. You, though – you don't belong here, Roxas. Maybe under other circumstances you would have, but you're _of_ that world. You _need_ to return. I don't want you to die here."

Roxas blinked, taken aback by the guy's grave sincerity, and the fact that this was absolutely the opposite of Axel's original behaviour. Riku had connected the dots before they'd even met – he wasn't going to try and force Roxas into anything, and, what's more, he recognised straight away that Roxas' life was in danger.

"Uh. Roxas…"

Sighing irritably, Roxas turned to Axel, ready to silence him again, his arguments petty and self-interested – until he saw what Axel wanted to mention, and his blood ran cold.

Or, more specifically, his freshly spilled blood had called out the Heartless.


	11. Inverted Pt 3

Pairing: AkuRoku

Words: 5,191

Rating: M

.o.O.o.

The shadows were boiling, reaching, crowding, the illumination from the nearby buildings seeming to strengthen their dark malevolence. Hard shapes started appearing inside the hazy gloom, Roxas backing up a step, only to turn and find that there was nowhere to retreat to – they were everywhere, bubbling up out of the darkness en masse, called by the light they could suddenly detect in their world.

"Heartless!" Riku exclaimed, readying his sword.

"Yeah, no _shit,"_ Axel barked. "They're here for Roxas. You still want to _help out_ so bad, how about you try keeping him alive for the next ten minutes?" He hauled his second weapon back up, both he and Riku turning their backs on Roxas, keeping him between them as they faced the rapidly growing army of Heartless rising from the shadows.

"There's no way we can stop all these," Riku tersely assessed. "We have to run for it. What are you doing here? Where are you headed?"

"The castle," Axel curtly replied.

"The – the _castle?"_ Riku's head whipped briefly around. "Are you out of your _mind?_ You know that this place is run by the Beast, right? _You think he got that name because he's fluffy?"_

"Who's the Beast?" Roxas demanded, panicked by the increasing number of Heartless – they just kept _coming,_ being out in the open meant no limitations on the darkness, no end to their ability to manifest. If they didn't move soon, they'd be inundated the second the Heartless attacked.

"He's the ruler of this place," Riku snapped, "and he's so fucking evil he's not even human anymore."

"We don't have a choice," Axel argued fiercely, "he's the only goddamn one with a magic mirror, and that's the only way to get Roxas _home._ If you've got a better fucking idea, lay it out for me!"

Riku hissed a curse.

"Here they come!" Axel cried. Turning desperate eyes to Roxas, he yelled, _"Roxas, come on!"_ and without waiting for Riku's approval of the plan took off, Roxas clinging to his coat. As the Heartless started surging, he slashed at them violently, clearing a path as best he could – but oh, God, they were everywhere. Roxas could feel their claws, scraping at his skin, snatching at his clothes, their dead, yellow eyes staring from every direction. He felt a sting of pain as one of them cut into him, his neck bleeding freely, and at this, the others seemed to go mad. The world became a flurry of sharp claws, Roxas howling, Axel bellowing his name, trying to free him from their clutches, Roxas clinging doggedly to his coat.

Then, a hole appeared in their ranks, a collection of them simply turning to dust – revealing Riku on the other side of them, his sword out, expression determined. "So are you going to save him," he called to Axel, "or am I going to have to do it _for_ you?"

"Fuck you!" was Axel's spitting response, and with that, the pair of them formed a whirlwind of blades, hacking a straight path through the Heartless, heading uphill, towards the ominous castle. The second they got through the thicker core of the creatures, they started running, Riku with a hand on Roxas' back, Roxas still gripping Axel's coat tightly. Whenever a Heartless got in their way, either Axel or Riku cut it down, though their ranks kept swelling, the shadows behind them disgorging the beasts left, right, and centre. They had no time to pause, no opportunity to catch their breath, the three of them heading persistently uphill, panting raggedly.

They reached the gates of the castle and slammed against them, Roxas pressed to the bars with Riku and Axel turning to face the oncoming wave of Heartless in pursuit. Kicking a heel back against them, Axel hoarsely yelled, _"Hey! Let us in! Heartless out here!"_

"They're not going to open!" Riku snapped, and grabbed hold of Roxas, whirling towards the bars while darkness sprang up around them on all sides. An instant later, the blackness fell away, Roxas gasping deeply at the giddy sensation of having been whipped through a dark corridor just a few feet – then, before he realised why, he was screaming, sagging in Riku's grasp.

Axel bellowed, _"You moron!"_ He did the same, vanishing in a pulse of darkness before reappearing beside them, black tendrils dissolving as he all but tore Roxas from the bewildered Riku's grip. Riku let out a horrified noise as he saw Roxas' face – blood streamed down in countless rivulets, his flesh covered in a network of long, hair-thin cuts. "If that was an option, _don't you think I would have tried it?"_ Axel snarled, through bared teeth. "You think there's a bunch of Heartless out _here?_ You just dragged him through _pure darkness_ while the Heartless are out,you useless, light-loving _shit."_

He held the trembling Roxas close, who was still trying to comprehend what had happened. His entire body was on fire, his black coat slashed almost to ribbons, damp with his own blood. The cuts were shallow, but _everywhere._ "Come on," Axel grunted, stowing one of his bladed wheels under his coat and using his free hand to heave Roxas up, shrugging him over one shoulder, before heading resolutely towards the castle. Riku followed behind, guarding the rear with a torn expression.

As they approached the door, Axel reared back and slammed a boot into it, roaring, _"Open up!"_ He kicked several more times before Riku caught up with them, pushing past Axel and stabbing his sword deep between the two locked doors, the blade seeming to vanish into the wood, his whispered command of, _"Open!"_ springing them apart.

"Is that a fucking keyblade?" Axel demanded, startled.

"As a light-loving shit," Riku replied tightly, "I can wield one. Now _get inside."_

Axel staggered through the doors, Riku following and dragging them shut with a bang.

At long last, they could catch their breath. Much as when Axel had taken Roxas into his room in Castle Oblivion, the Heartless piled against the massive doors, scraping and scratching, thumping, Riku retreating several steps and waiting, body tense, to see if the doors would hold.

Axel lowered Roxas gently to the floor, then twisted towards Riku and again unhooked his second weapon. When the young man finally turned from the doors, wearily relieved that the threat had passed, he found himself facing Axel, expression hard, weapons ready to continue their earlier fight. "I was willing to overlook you being part of the Order of the Way to Dawn," he stated, "but you're a keyblade wielder; I can't walk away from that."

Riku glared incredulously, stance changing back to its ready state. "Really? We're going to do this here? Now?"

"Now that I know you're a keyblade wielder," Axel started up again, before stammering to a halt as Roxas, who had climbed painstakingly to his feet, stood defiantly in front of him, face like thunder, drenched in his own blood.

"Axel," he said, voice like ice, "if you touch Riku, if you fight him, I will _hate_ you for the rest of my life."

Axel blinked rapidly, looking first stung, then frustrated. "Roxas, you don't understand! I'm Organisation – he's a _keyblade wielder._ We're like… mortal enemies!"

"Riku is my brother's boyfriend's other," Roxas answered, voice rising, trembling, "and if you hurt him, it's the Riku on the other side that's going to suffer. If you _touch_ him, I will hate you _forever._ I won't even be able to look at Lea the same way. And if I get back across and Riku falls sick, I _will_ find a way to come back and make you _hurt_ for it."

He held Axel's gaze with a sort of controlled menace, exhausted beyond comprehension, every part of his body wracked with pain, a gory sight with his face smeared with blood. But never before in his life had he been as serious as he was right now, nor as coldly certain.

Maybe they were right about Roxas having been meant for this world, because whatever was in his gaze at that moment seemed to touch Axel, really make him _believe_ what Roxas was saying. His arms faltered, then lowered.

After a pause, Riku said, "We should move." His voice echoed slightly in the castle's vast foyer, now that the scrabbling claws of the Heartless had died away. Axel sent him a dangerous look, but, with Roxas' warning in mind, he bit back whatever harsh words sprang to mind.

"Just try not to hurt him anymore," he muttered waspishly.

Riku sighed. To Roxas, he offered awkwardly, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking with the dark corridor – and I really didn't mean for you to get hurt earlier."

Roxas shook his head faintly. "You're helping. Let's just… get me the hell out of here, so I can find a hospital. Sooner rather than later."

Axel, evidently feeling threatened by Riku's presence, stepped over, hooking his weapons back under his coat. Turning his back to Roxas, he bent his knees and said over his shoulder, "Hop on. I'll carry you."

Roxas eyed him uncertainly, but then, feeling just how beaten he was, nodded and, wrapped his arms over Axel's shoulders, allowing the man to tuck a hand under him as he straightened. Riku watched from a few feet away, Axel darting him a swift, suspicious look, before glancing around. "So – where is everyone? I mean, this is a castle, right? Aren't there meant to be, I don't know – guards? Servants?"

Riku sighed exasperatedly. "You have no idea where we are, do you?"

"We're in the only other damn place that has a magic mirror handy," Axel tersely replied. "Want to make something of it?"

Riku muttered something like, _"Typical,"_ under his breath, Axel seething, Roxas giving a spike of his hair a gentle tug to keep him in line. Voice low, Riku explained, "This is the castle of the Beast. Like I said outside, he is…" He stopped, glancing nervously around, continuing in almost a whisper, "He's _evil._ Twisted. Literally inhuman, after absorbing so much darkness. You want to know why the Heartless didn't follow us in? Because _this guy devours them._ He consumes the darkness, to strengthen himself."

Axel looked a little pale. "Shit. I thought there were just barriers on the doorways, like at Castle Oblivion."

Riku shook his head, silver hair swaying. "And that's why the _streets_ are empty, and why there's no one about – this guy doesn't have guards, or servants, or _anything,_ because he's _terrifying._ And you," he scowled, "brought Roxas _here."_

"I'll protect Roxas," Axel asserted, although he was obviously unnerved by Riku's information.

"You'll probably die within these walls," Riku coolly replied.

Roxas' grip tightened on Axel's shoulders. "No," he said sharply, keeping his volume soft but his words firm. "I'm not losing him. Not either of you. If it looks like that – that Beast is going to get us, the priority is just to get out of the castle. We can figure something else out."

"He says as he bleeds all over me," Axel muttered.

"I'm not dead yet," Roxas told him. "I'll live. I'm not letting either of you die, though. I can't…"

"You don't want Lea or the other Riku to suffer, right?" Axel dully supposed. Roxas hesitated.

"It's more than that. I'd care if you died, Axel."

Axel turned his head, Roxas able to see one green eye gazing at him for a stretching moment. Then, he said, "All right. Nobody dies. Gotcha."

"Well, in that case, we need to move _fast_ and _quietly,"_ Riku informed them. "This guy is psychopathic. Our best case scenario is getting in and out without him even knowing we were here."

"It's a big castle, right?" Axel shrugged a little, with a new burst of careless confidence. "I'm sure he won't notice us, if we keep to the shadows."

Riku's lips thinned disapprovingly, but evidently the thought of standing there and arguing about it appealed to him a lot less than just taking Axel's attitude in stride and hoping for the best. With ratcheting tension, he and Axel set off, the search for the mirror beginning.

"I hear," Axel whispered, "that this guy keeps his treasures in the west wing – so let's head thataway."

Riku nodded. "Sounds good." They ascended a sweeping staircase and turned left, moving deeper into the castle.

As they walked, Roxas shifted to get a better grip on Axel, the man hissing and flinching as he inadvertently squeezed his upper arm. Remembering that he'd been injured in the fight with Riku, Roxas felt a flash of regret. At that point, they hadn't known Riku wanted to _help_ Roxas – Axel had got hurt thinking he was defending him. "…Is your arm okay?"

Axel gave a low huff that could have passed for a laugh. "Are you kidding? You're asking me that? You've been stabbed twice and you're covered in a million gashes from the Heartless, and you might be getting piggy-backed but you're still going – me and my arm, we're just fine." After a couple more paces, he added quietly, turning his head to peer back a little, "Thanks, Roxas."

" _Sh."_ Riku shushed them, Axel sticking his tongue out at the guy, but obligingly falling silent.

They made their way deeper into the castle, the flickering flames of the candle sconces giving the stark passageways a cold, grim feel. Roxas looked around carefully, keeping every sense alert for the twisted master that Riku said ruled the place, while trying to ignore the extreme light-headedness of having the reached the absolute end of his endurance. Thank God Axel was carrying him, or he was sure he'd have passed out halfway up the first staircase.

They moved persistently westward, Riku several paces ahead, stepping softly, keeping an eye out for danger. So far, though, they had got through the castle undetected and unscathed. The lack of staff or guards made it a far easier endeavour than it would otherwise have been; maybe Axel had been on to something when he pointed out that having one person to avoid in a castle wouldn't be such a difficult task.

At length, they came upon a part of the castle that was even more dilapidated than the rest: a crumbling set of stairs that led to long hallway, which ended in a set of slender double doors. As they stood before the closed doors, Axel whispered, "This is about as far west as we can get, I think."

"We didn't miss any turn-offs," Riku mused. He placed a hand upon the wood of one door and gave a gentle push, to no avail. "Locked."

Axel stepped back, hitching Roxas up a little higher, the blond gripping him wearily, trying to be as easy a burden as possible. Riku brought forth his sword, and, closing his eyes, pushed it between the sealed doors as he had at the entrance. _"Open."_ There was a click, and he removed the sword again, the door opening this time as he pressed against it.

Axel, watching with some disgruntlement, muttered under his breath, "Fuckin' keyblades." Roxas' light squeeze of his shoulders was enough to make him shut up, and he followed after Riku as the young man slipped silently and carefully into the room beyond.

For a moment, they stood just inside the doorway and stared at their surroundings, Roxas eventually asking in a hushed tone, "Is this the west wing?" The place looked like a tornado had hit it. There were no lit sconces in here; rather, what light could struggle through from the moon outside lit the area as best as it could. The sheer volume of items crammed into the room made it difficult to see further than a few feet away, with tapestries and paintings on the walls torn to shreds, and splintered furniture strewn around. "Did the Heartless do this?" Roxas dubiously wondered.

Riku shook his head. "Heartless wouldn't come here. This is the doing of the Beast."

Roxas felt his apprehension climb higher, his hands again tightening on Axel, the redhead glancing back at him with equally serious eyes. How could a _person_ do this level of damage? The violence of the destruction was like a heavy shadow, and as the trio resumed moving, stepping cautiously through the chaos, it only grew more oppressive.

"Hey – Axel?" Riku softly asked, several careful minutes in.

"Yeah," Axel replied heavily, "I feel it." Riku nodded slightly, leaving Roxas wondering what it was they could 'feel'. They both moved over towards the window, weaving through the mess to where the moonlight was gently filtering through the dust-caked glass panes.

There, in the silvery light, stood a white table, the only part of the room that looked like it was maintained. It was clean, almost polished, and mostly bare, sitting against the wall beneath a tattered portrait; its subject, when Roxas peered closely, seeming to be a woman. Only her brown eyes could be seen – everything else was torn beyond recognition. Axel squinted at the painting, then down at the table, whereupon there sat two items, and nothing more.

The first of the items had Riku looking fascinated. A bright, red rose hung suspended in a bell jar, held by nothing that Roxas could see, a faint shimmer radiating from it. With awe, Riku murmured, "It's stunning." His hands hovered over the jar, but didn't touch, instead seeming to – to bask, as if it gave off heat. "It's pure light," he huskily said, sounding enthralled. Turning to Axel, he wondered, "Why in the world does that monster have something like this?"

"Who cares?" Axel tightly asked, his gaze already on the other item on the table. It was face-down, but obviously a hand mirror, albeit one of exquisite design. Riku glanced at it, and paused again.

"That, too," he quietly exclaimed, reaching to touch it. "It's an item of light. Is the Beast hoarding them?"

"Like I _said,"_ Axel snapped, batting his hand away and picking up the mirror, "who _cares?_ The Beast can do whatever the hell he likes with items of light – the fact of it is that we need this for Roxas."

He lowered Roxas gently to his feet, but turned and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady. Roxas was grateful for the assistance; he couldn't, after all the running, actually stand on his stabbed leg anymore. In addition, his left shoulder throbbed excruciatingly, the arm difficult to lift. He was an absolute mess – there was no denying it.

Lifting the mirror, Axel frowned at the glass, his reflection mimicking the expression. "How do you work this thing?" he muttered, twisting it to look at the back, like maybe there was a switch to press.

"Don't just _wave it around,"_ Riku growled softly. "Idiot. It's an item of _light,_ you think you can just walk up to it and use it?" He turned his blindfolded face to Roxas. "Roxas needs to activate it. Give it to him."

Axel glanced down at the blond, shrugged a little, then, after a pause, held the mirror out. There was a reluctance to his movements that spoke volumes: he still didn't actually want Roxas to go. If Roxas hadn't been bleeding all over the damn place, he might have even withheld it. But Roxas needed this mirror – he needed to get out. Needed to go home. When he took it from Axel, it was gingerly, a smear of red instantly spoiling its pristine surface.

Holding it, however, seemed to do nothing. Glancing at Riku, he whispered, "Now what?"

Riku made a helpless face, Axel sighing and shaking his head. "Look, you've gotta – you've gotta give it a command. That's what Xaldin said."

"How in the hell does someone from the Organisation know so much about an item of light?" Riku suspiciously asked.

"He's been here before, okay? Confidential Organisation business, so don't ask." To Roxas, he repeated, almost impatiently, "So, give it a command. Tell it to show you something."

"Anything?" Roxas uncertainly asked. Axel nodded and gestured for him to hurry it up, so he drew a breath, held the mirror in front of his face, and tentatively said, "Show me –" His mind was almost blank… until a name drifted up, one he hadn't uttered in entirely too long. "Show me Lea."

They recoiled as light burst sharply from the glass, tendrils of it crawling about haphazardly. As Roxas' eyes adjusted, however, he hitched a breath, a flash of red catching his attention within the mirror's radiating corona. He could – see Lea! His fingers tightened around the mirror, bringing it so close his nose was almost bumping the image. It had been only a matter of hours since he'd seen the man, but in that time so much had happened that Roxas had almost forgotten that Lea and Axel were, in fact, separate entities. He had been settling too easily into looking at Axel and _not_ thinking automatically of Lea – like the air of this place had been slowly sucking him in, creating a fog in his head.

Looking at Lea now, though, Roxas felt a spike of longing so intense it was almost painful. He was sitting somewhere – on his bed, it looked like. And he looked… _tired._ Exhausted. More than that, there was despair on his face. Holding his head in his hands, he looked like the world was ending. "Lea!" he cried, forgetting to be quiet, Riku shushing him insistently. But the redhead in the mirror didn't respond.

"It's not a freaking walkie-talkie!" Axel tersely admonished, looking more displeased by the second. "He can't hear you, Roxas. All you can do is see _him."_

"Well, then how am I supposed to get back?" Roxas demanded. "You're the one who said a magic mirror could get me back. So, how?"

"Will you two _please –"_ Riku's agitated attempt to get them to lower the volume trailed abruptly off. Sensing a change, not just from Riku's rigid body language but in the air itself, which seemed to grow thicker, oilier, the moonlight unobstructed but dimmer than it had been a moment ago – Roxas looked over his shoulder, along with Axel, to see a looming, yellow-eyed shape behind them. If it was a Heartless, it was the biggest Roxas had ever seen, easily twice as tall as he was, and three times as broad.

With a gasp, he twisted, the light from the still-activated mirror splashing onto the figure, showing that it wasn't a Heartless after all, but – a monster. _The Beast._ As the light from the mirror hit its crusted fur, it bent and roared at them, the sound vibrating throughout Roxas' entire body. It was nothing but fury, and madness. It swung an arm the size of both Roxas' thighs, Axel yanking him out of the way, the deadly, clawed hand striking a piece of discarded furniture and sending it flying, in several chunks, across the room. Axel rolled himself over Roxas, fumbling frantically for one of his weapons, the other cupping the blond's head to his chest as the Beast raised both hands, clasped together, to slam down on them.

" _Hey!"_ The Beast's attention was sharply diverted over to Riku, who had lunged for the white table and snatched up the bell jar, now holding it aloft. At the sight of him with it above his head, as if he might at any given moment smash it to pieces, the Beast forgot all about Roxas and the mirror and, with a bone-rattling shriek, leapt after Riku.

" _Get him out of here!"_ Riku yelled, scrambling through the mess to draw the Beast away.

Axel hissed, _"Shit,"_ and, grabbing Roxas' wrist, tugged the mirror over to bark at it, "Show us Lea's bathroom!" The mirror pulsed, the light tendrils crackling, and the image shifted, Lea melting from view, replaced instead by – a door? "We're looking out of the mirror you came through," Axel told him urgently. "It'll still have some of the witch's magic in it, so it's still connected to this realm. _This_ is how you get home." He turned his eyes to Roxas', their faces a breath apart. "Just put your hand on the glass, Roxas." Despite the direction, his grip on Roxas' wrist tightened, the blond's other hand trapped between them.

"I won't forget you," Roxas promised him, the pair of them wincing as the Beast's howling roar once again shook the room. Wrapping the hand with the mirror around the back of Axel's head, he tugged him in for a hard, final kiss. When they parted, he commanded, "Help Riku, okay? And look into that goddamn order of light, Axel – you're more like Lea than you know." Pressing their foreheads together, he added, "Don't you fucking die in here."

All the while, he had been working his other hand free, though it made his stabbed shoulder burn, and with a final brush of his lips against Axel's, he planted his newly freed hand against the mirror's surface.

There was one final burst of light, a rush of energy like a concentric ripple passing through the room – and then the mirror dropped, reflective once more. Roxas was gone, only a bloody handprint left on the glass in his wake.

Axel lay there for a moment, still, staring at the space where Roxas had been, the warmth of the boy still on his body, the smell of his blood lingering on the air. Then he heard a terrific _crunch_ as the Beast evidently made a swing at Riku, destroying something along the way, and, with a breath, rolled to his feet, unhooking his chakrams.

Help Riku?

Ugh. _Fine._

.o.O.o.

 _Six Weeks Later_

"Come on, Sora. Don't get cocky. Just because you have _one_ dream that's true doesn't make them all true. Or did you turn into an oracle when I wasn't looking?" Roxas had his cell phone tucked between his head and his shoulder, sitting at the desk in his dorm room. Digging a spoon half-heartedly through a tub of yoghurt, he listened to his twin splutter indignantly on the other end.

" _I've been dreaming it for weeks, though!"_ Sora told him, from Hollow Bastion. _"You, and some guy called Axel, and that – that dark place. And oh, man, all the blood…"_

"When is this supposed to happen, exactly?" Roxas idly asked, sucking his spoon clean, feet up next to his laptop, eyes on the window.

Sora was quiet for a moment. _"I think – it already happened."_

"Oh? So you're seeing the _past_ now?"

Roxas could hear the pout his teasing was causing on the other end of the line as Sora replied, _"Are you absolutely sure you're not keeping anything from me?"_

"Sora, you're my brother. Why would I keep something like that from you? I think your imagination is just a little overactive right now. Too much sugar, maybe." He listened to Sora sigh. They both knew he knew the truth – he always had been the stronger of the two, in terms of clairvoyance – but Roxas wasn't going to admit a damn thing. That would lead to questions he didn't feel like answering – such as, what had caused it in the first place. Sora didn't need to know that he and his new boyfriend had sort of almost indirectly killed him. He also didn't need to know that Riku had a mirror image in that dark world – or that Roxas, in another lifetime, was supposed to have been his.

There was just… a lot that Sora didn't need to know.

There came a knock on the door, Roxas shifting his chin to call, "Come in!" It swung open, and Lea entered, a smile spreading instantly across Roxas' face at the sight of him. "Hi," he said, Lea making a beeline for him and bending to press a kiss to his lips.

"Hi."

The soft affection in his eyes set Roxas' heart fluttering. Into the phone, he said, "Hey, Sora, I have to go, okay? But, come on, relax. Stop worrying. Even if your dreams _were_ accurate, it doesn't really matter _now,_ does it? If it was the past, then obviously I got through it just fine. Not that it actually happened. Stop watching scary movies late at night."

"… _Yeah, I guess."_ Sora sounded glumly resigned to never really hearing the real story. _"I'll text you later, then. Bye."_

Roxas hung up, put his phone and yoghurt onto the desk, then reached up to Lea, tugging him back down for another long kiss. When they eventually parted, Lea asked, "Your brother still asking about the dreams?"

"Yeah," Roxas sighed. "He doesn't want to hear that it didn't happen. I guess they're pretty vivid."

"He'll probably figure it out," Lea pointed out, "what with your new scars and all."

They both looked over at Roxas' calf, where a shining, hairless patch of skin now existed from Larxene stabbing him. He had a matching one on his shoulder. Both were only newly healed. They had each required stitches, and Roxas himself had needed a blood transfusion to get his platelet count back up. Luckily, the myriad scratches marring his face and body had closed without leaving marks, or Roxas would have _really_ had a hard time dissuading Sora.

"It'll work out," he assured Lea. "I'm sure I can bullshit my way through. And if not, what's he going to do? Accuse his own brother of being a liar?" He shrugged, Lea shaking his head with a grin, leaning down for another kiss.

"That's my evil twin," he murmured. Roxas' hands hooked behind his head, holding him close, the kiss languid to begin with, but growing hotter the longer that it lasted. Lea started massaging him through his shirt, shoulders first, then down to his chest. When Roxas lightly sucked his tongue, Lea groaned, breaking away to throatily suggest, "Bed?"

Roxas met his gaze, and slowly shook his head. _"Mirror."_

Lea's breaths quickened, pupils dilating. Lips curling into a smirk, he remarked, "You've had kind of a kink for that lately." He cupped Roxas' face, lapped at his lips. _"I approve."_

"I thought you might." Roxas twisted in the chair, holding on to Lea, who half lifted him away from it. Wrapping his legs around the man's waist, Roxas was carried over to the floor-length mirror he had acquired upon returning home from the hospital. Along the way, he tugged off his shirt and tossed it to the floor, Lea depositing him on his feet when they reached the mirror, turning him around, the pair of them staring lustily into the glass as Lea, behind Roxas, started undressing.

Roxas held his eyes in the mirror, even when he tipped his head back against Lea's shoulder to allow the man to plant kisses up and down his throat. As Lea's hand delved into the front of his jeans, his green eyes seemed to shift, for just the barest flicker of a heartbeat, the grin on his face adopting a razor-like quality.

With Lea's hands on him, and Axel's gaze burning in the mirror, Roxas found heights of ecstasy he'd never known he needed.


End file.
